Eating Disorders Poems

I scream, yet I am not heard.
I try to talk, but my mouth won't open.
I am not myself anymore,
but I can tell that to no one.

It talks through my mouth
And always shouts and screams.
It tells me I'm not good enough
and stamps on all my dreams.

It tears me from my loved ones
and rips their hearts in two,
for they think that I'm dying,
but it says that that's not true.

They say I'm in denial,
but it says there's nothing wrong,
I'm so confused and lost.
I feel like I don't belong.

It's a part of me now.
I know I'm never alone,
for it's always there with me,
even when I'm on my own.

But life doesn't feel worth living,
and I just want to cry.
I want to be myself again,
But it's too difficult to try.

I let it control me now,
as it has stuck to me.
Although it lies to everyone,
I know I can never be free.

But as the months go by,
I know that I'm growing weak,
and at the rate I'm going,
my future is looking bleak.

My friends talk to me,
and I just want to reply,
but it tells them that I'm okay,
and I know that it's a lie.

I start to think that maybe
everyone might have been right,
but it tells me that they're lying,
and I am filled with fright.

I don't want to die,
but I'm terrified I might.
No one else can save me.
It's me who has to fight.

But I still cannot talk,
as it controls my mind,
so I just keep on lying,
leaving my friends behind.

I cannot fight the voice,
for it's far too strong,
I don't know who I am without it.
It's been in my head for too long.

I'm trapped in my own head,
but I know I must resist,
for if I keep believing it,
I will not to exist.

No doctor is lying to me,
no loved one wants me to die,
but it is controlling me
and making me constantly lie.

I know the truth
somewhere inside of me,
and all I can do now
is resist that voice daily.

It's tough to fight the voice
every single day.
But I know it's best for me.
I want to be okay.

The road is long and winding,
and the battle is uphill,
but recovery is the only way out,
as eating disorders can kill.

I am myself again now,
after many years,
and while it is still present,
I do not listen to its jeers.

My life is for me to live,
not to just survive.
Beating my eating disorder
was the only way to thrive.

Recovery is possible.
You can fight the voice.
You can regain control.
Recovery is your choice.

It's what I think about every minute of the day,
In the car, during physics; "It's dangerous," they say.
In the morning, at school, in the bathroom, in bed,
"You'll fail. You're a failure," is all my mind said.
Nothing else matters. No one needs to know.
The truth lags behind, justifications echo.
To the one who knows the truth, I can only lie.
Avoiding my problems seems only benign.
To those who love me most, I appear the same.
No control seen, no force to be tamed.
They know nothing, eyes shut to the obvious.
In a crowd, I'm alone, just as my body is.
No one understands. I have created my own hell.
Suffering malnutrition, I am breaking. Ring the bells.
My body looks no different, I observe it night and day.
I wish the mirror could read what the scale has to say.
I am anorexic, if you're going by the book.
But I can tell no one, not with the way I look.
I am still fat, and I'm afraid I will always be.
I am alone. I just want someone to see.

Slippery, sweet, syrupy words sticking in my brain
A lie
They won't go away no matter how much I try to send them back to where they came from
A lie
It's so hard to abstain from the succulent fruit of life
A lie
A black force telling me food was my enemy and they were my friend
A lie
They say that the home is where the heart is
A lie
But home for you it's where the torture continues
A lie
You're are worth nothing and the only way to prove yourself is to shrink and let the space around you grow
A lie
Until the space around you envelops you in its clear, perfect arms
A lie
But when society tells you you're nothing but wrong in those skinny, shiny books
A lie
Stick arms reach for sustenance the manipulator does not want
A lie
Extreme measures in which a "diet trick" went wrong
A lie
All this young girl wanted to do was belong
A lie
Trapped by her twenty four bared cage guarding a twisted, mangled heart
A lie
The slippery, sweet, syrupy voice tells her it's the only way
A lie
Two fingers are the best weapon and to use it always
A lie
Black, everything's black till you're put in the white tiled hallway
A lie
Because everything is a lie
A lie was how it started
A lie is how it continued
The truth is how it ended

When I was fifteen I starved myself,
hoping I could then accept myself,
but with all the weight I dropped,
the burning self-hate never stopped.

Restricting, crying, jumping-jacks,
searching for starvation hacks.
The number would drop day by day,
but in the mirror the fat would stay.

I got scared of my reflection
on my lookout for perfection.
Everyone was scared for me.
Couldn't understand what I would see
when I saw my body grow
in spite of what the scale would show.

I would purge a slice of apple,
trying to fight my silent battle.
All I felt was sharp despair.
When I ran, I gasped for air.
Everyone was telling lies,
seeing me through real eyes.

A vicious cycle owned my mind,
telling lies that made me blind.

Crippling waves of anxiety smash against the sides of the boat.
Broken pieces of the sailing structure fall away into the boundless space of the sea.
The current is rough, and I realize I have chosen a destructive path.
I look around at my deck. It is empty and I stand aboard unaided,
which means I must face the tide alone.

Trying to steer the ship into prosperous waters proves to be a task, and
the fatal path has begun to take a grasp on my mind.
My body trembles with unease, and the great force of the waves throw me across the deck.
There is no one to help me and no one to save me.
Do people want to see me fail, or they just not care?
There must be a reason for my loneliness aboard the vessel.

Infected with self-hatred and no idea how to steer my ship away,
I see no choice but to expel my sustenance.
Drooping my head overboard, I look down at the desolateness of the ocean.
The ship has left my control, and it begins to lose restraint.
At this point, I do not care; I do not know how to lead it into calm waters.
I close my eyes and begin to purge
over the side of the boat, and the vessel speeds into the storm.

With one hand, I grip the sides of the boat; I do not want to fall in.
Although it is unsteady, my ship feels safer than the openness of the vast ocean.
With the other, I forcefully retch to abolish the goodness from myself,
hopeful that it will teach me to navigate my boat into buoyant tides.

I should be animated with panic, yet this is nothing new.
The supreme waves begin to rip apart the boat, and I am knocked from my feet,
left cast down on the floor.
I know I want to get up and prevent the destruction, but my stomach throbs,
my watered eyes are blurred, and my mind tells me to stay knocked down.
Disturbingly, the reckless waves and frantic storms have become my reality.
And then I feel the ship begin to descend into the great mouth of the sea.

As the water fills up the deck and the waves smash down onto my person,
I rise from the hard, wooden ground of the deck.
I sprint down the sinking ship, with the edge of the boat in my sight.
And I fall many times along the way.
However, once again I rise with the open water in sight.
Taking a leap of faith, I dive into the sea.

The fresh water feels beautiful on my damaged skin.
As I open my eyes in the ocean, I see no wreckage or sign of the destruction of my boat.
Swimming up the surface, I feel the beaming sun on my body, and I enjoy the warmth and comfort it gives me.
I turn onto my back among the calm waves and shut my eyes,
but I can still see the bright sun above me in the sky.

I have cracked, but I will not be broken.
I do not fear falling because I do not fear living.
The deeper I sink, the higher I rise.