Eating Disorder Poems - Poems about Eating Disorder

Control

Her soul was starved of acceptance 
An aching hunger wanting to be fed 
Her body weak
Not from the lack of food
But for the lack of love for her skin
Being black meant a life where no matter what she did
She would never win
She couldn't control her race 
But she could control her body
She wanted to be

The Release

We all know that feeling. The one that we don’t want to end. The one that’s so satisfying it’s intoxicating. It starts subtle. Sometimes, it involves thoughts. Thoughts you wouldn’t dare share with anyone. It grows through your entire body, screaming and scratching through every single nerve ending. It spreads slowly, burning down every narrow

The Plate

Not all of us ‘Eat, Pray, Love’.
One plate: a minefield
of coulda, woulda, shoulda,
of clink and clatter
long after a bite.
Taste lingers,
here!

My Body Is My Friend

I stare timidly into the softly lit mirror,
Its gaze staring back at me unrecognizable.
I've been told this person is my friend,
But its reflection paints a different picture.
Its mixture mixes a mess of colors I never thought go together anyway.
A bit ghostly.
I trace its outline carefully -
A bump here, a dent there, extra padding everywhere -
So

Colors

Colors

Blue the color of her eyes
That hid the pain 
The ones that ahead the tears 
When no one is near 
The ones that have the glow even
When the tears flow 

Red the color of her lips 
The ones that hold back the tips 
The tips that mad her once feel full
Now seeps through the tile

Marionette of Flesh in a Borrowed Dress

"Marionette of Flesh in a Borrowed Dress"
- Daniel Henry Rodgers

The hourglass, 
a skeletal jester 
mocks in the tomb's chill
Each falling grain an emaciated sigh, 
"Soon you'll cease to be."
The mirror's cold reflection, 
a Gorgon's ghastly guise
A marionette of flesh with vacant... 
hollow...
colorless eyes.

The worms, like pallid mourners 
watch me shrink
A marionette of organs,
cold and pale,

growing pains

growing pains...

and so she grew,
because that’s what we all do.
she reminded herself that 
her body
is her vessel.
it does more than just
exist
for a compliment, 
for a boy,
for a mirror
or for a photo.
she told herself that her size,
and the tightness of her clothes
were not indicators of failure.
the fullness of her belly,
would never determine her worth
she found comfort

Chosen Fate

After deciding
To skip this one too,
Soon enough
Her face turned blue.
Thinking what damage,
Could a skipped meal do?
And if one won't,
Then so won't two.
So she sleeps on this one too.
What's a little bit of hunger?
Nothing new.

But she finds herself in one of her biggest fears,
The sound of a siren filling her ears,
Red and blue lights blinding her

The Art of Being Empty

The Art of Being Empty 
I was baptized in the TV light of The Biggest Loser  
and worshipped a version of myself that I believed 
could go forty days without eating, like Jesus. 
 
I packed my lunchbox with a communion 	
of teeth-whitening strips and cherry red lipstick. 
you’re only allowed to donate blood

On Healing

Sometimes healing is messy
It is a rollercoaster 
Ups and downs
Sometimes I can handle it
Other times I lose control
I say I am in recovery for my bulimia
But I still struggle
I still consider pushing myself that extra hour in the gym
I think skipping lunch that day won't hurt
I sometimes spend too much time looking at teeth enamel

Eating Disorder

I don’t feel I have the words to describe an eating disorder 
It’s like having mean monsters always waiting around the corner
Once the seed is planted there is no going back
It starts off small with things like not wanting that snack

As the tree starts to grow it feeds the monsters more
The problem can’t be easily

Nobody's Problem

If you’re reading this, don't tell anyone:
I guess you’d figure that by now I found it. 
There’s something so innocent, yet menacing about the way you move. 
They say there’s no saints without sinners.
I used to be The Catcher in the Rye 
but now, I lay helpless until noon after kissing the floor every time

Mommy I Don'T Want To Die

“Mommy, mommy!” I desperately scream at 4, longing for comfort in her welcoming arms. 
 We are watching a film about the circle of life. The movie showed the sheep at birth all the way to its final stages. Snot puffs out of my young nostrils like the smoke in grandma’s cigarette. My heart is

From the Parent of An Eating Disorder Sufferer

Don’t be afraid of words like thin and fat or slim and large, of discussing shame or diet or weight -
there is nothing wrong with learning and conversation, of mistakes and missteps and change.
Just know that food is neither good nor bad, it’s never a guilty pleasure or even a treat -
eat what your body

Eating Disorder

The thought consumes me “Don’t eat” you’ll just get fat
All I want is for my stomach to be flat
Is that too much to ask?
So what if I don't want to eat? It just feels like a task
But I’m not one of those people who binge…
When I look into the mirror I cringe
I hate what I

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