Short Anorexic Poems

Medics once diagnosed girls
  who'd pick at their food as anemic

Advances in medicine conclusively show
  that all along they were anorexic-bulimic...

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Skin and bones, some say she's too thin
Kind of looks like a frail stick
Each day she runs, fast paced
Lost look in her eyes
Eats less and less
Torn and sad
One word
Numb






Written on 10/7/2015
Infinitian Form...

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People say it’s only skin, but I see lard.
I see it falling down, straight from my arms.
It speaks to me, saying, come on eat.
You know you want to. Come on, feed me.
But I won’t. I think: discipline is key.
You can do it, food’s the enemy....

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Grass Calls for
 More and more
And I water and water.
The Obese: Expires

Hitherto, that grass
Spikingly Winds up by the"Plop, Plop"
Snubbing over the drops.
And Passes.

The Olive Grass
Gawking incessantly out at the flecked Rays
I witness them dance
They post me the murmuring messages

Of the Wind....

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Lone snowflakes drift in
As anorexic, claustrophobic bats shiver
Wrapped in their bat wing sleeping bags.
A field mouse plays “Three Little Pigs”
With a patch of straw.
An eerie wind whistles wickedly
Alarming an itinerant mole.
I snore, noisily unaware,
That my brother sub-let
His half of the den.

John G. Lawless
©1/21/2023...

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Self Reflection
by Michael R. Burch

(for anyone struggling with self-image)

She has a comely form
and a smile that brightens her dorm . . .
but she’s grossly unthin
when seen from within;
soon a grieving campus will mourn.

Yet she’d never once criticize
a friend for the size of her thighs.
Do unto others—
sisters and brothers?
Yes, but also ourselves, likewise....

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Don’t label me,
I’m not a freak
I’m not an anorexic that doesn’t eat
I’m not a “Lesbo”
I’m not a slut
I’m not an emo girl that cuts and cuts
I’m not a prep
I’m not a Goth
But please don’t go thinking I’m soft
I’m not a geek,
I don’t attention seek
So, what if I’m black?
I don’t do crack
I’m just me
And that’s all I’ll ever be
Don’t like it?
You’ll be working for me one day,
You just wait and see....

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There is in you 
a schizophrenic flicker, 
pucker-lipped,  
ready to kiss or to blow itself out, 
a hermit flame still with a ration of passion,  
but dissuaded by bruised recollection. 

Allow me to try, then, 
to wring out your reserve of tears, 
until your skin is paper,  
flammable.  

And let me try, if I may,
to put my arms around you,  
cup my hands around your core,   
and feed your anorexic fire....

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stop looking in mirrors
nurture your best sides
do things that you love

painting, dancing, roller skating
spend time outdoors
look toward the future

a dangerous internal voice
may be criticizing you
hold up an imaginary stop sign
yell “STOP!”

concentrate on your positives
make a list of them
You should be able to find at least fifty great things
If you are not there yet, strive for ten
Ten positive things about you
Stay away from mean voices and mirrors...

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Hunger juices





Living to eat or eating to live,
Hobby, habit or need ?
Money matters or personal,
While rich were obese,
Poor kids anorexic.

Royal cheese and creamy daal,
Tandoor is red hot,
Crisp chapatis and pickle,
Saliva fills mouth,
Nasal buds get taste,
Delicious,
Wow !

Dream shatters as eyes open,
Saliva drools into the eyes,
The kids sleep in hunger again !




Written July 20th, 2015
For Debbie's contest

Second verse is an epulaeryu........

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Walking alone in a dark night
No one around except the stars and the moon
I come upon a skull
Reciting speeches as jokes
Hamlet like a comedian
Trying to find ways to amuse myself
I toss the skull behind me
After hearing it, I hit the ground
I hear a grown, It's my stomach
I'm searching for food but I find nothing
I grow fear of the dark
I start to hallucinate
The trees laugh at me
Watching me starve
I feel like I'm growing tall and anorexic
Until I slowly
Am nothing...

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