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Luna Lynn Apr 2014
I wake up and eat some eggs, a yogurt, and a few slices of melon
in an attempt to change my life
after all it is that or death
I won't hold my breath

It's a beautiful day to head to the mall
with a friend
I really know where this is going

Hmm
I like that shirt
Oops, this store doesn't offer plus size
On to the next..
I really like these jeans..
Forty five dollars for sizes sixteen and up
What a mess!

Since I refuse to let Lane Bryant **** my wallet in the ***
I decide to head to Barnes and Noble instead
I accidentally bumped into a lady and her baby stroller as I walked past and she mumbled
"Fat *****" under her breath
Yes that's what she said
I didn't even turn my head
Because that's what the lady said
and that's what society says
and instead of trying to explain it's just
easier to walk away
it's the self hatred after I dread

So I buy a whole pizza and eat the entire ******* thing
and it is beyond delicious
though the guilt I feel afterwards wasn't worth it
and vomitting that **** up was viscous

Even when I was a little girl I dreamed of being thin
I dreamed of being a model
I dreamed of having a flat tummy
Just to fit in
I didn't like the belly I had
or the fat in my cheeks
I was the only kid in gym that could never climb the rope
and that began a string of anxiety attacks
that would last for weeks

The doctor calls it insulin resistance
which leaves me with the inability to lose weight
but I shouldn't have to explain to anyone my condition
I just shouldn't have to explain
not to mention the ovarian disease that cripples me to my knees
which so happens to be genetic
and mimics the blood of a diabetic
leaving me incurable
a medical mystery
not to mention infertility
so for me
children are just a dream

Although I tell myself
that I am beautiful
and that I am intelligent
and that I am funny
and that I am a hard worker
and that I am successful
and that I am caring
and that I am loving
and that I am daring
and that I am the best **** friend a person could ever have
To a stranger I'm just a "fat *****"
and you know what?
That makes me really ******* sad
Don't feel sorry for me, I am only speaking the truth.
(C) Maxwell 2014
Pea Sep 2014
And after that I am still a hollow where the
fairies hide from darkness and poisons. I
am still growing flowers out of my womb
and that is why they stink like *******.

And after that your disbelief kills all my
sparky pixies and after that I cannot be
anything more than a hollow hollow. But
yeah I am still growing flowers out of my
wound and that is why I scream and cry
when you touch them.

And after that the stillness of the air inside
me and the remnant echo of morning songs
attract the darkness to come. And after that
I think she may feel lonely so I invite
poisons to also come along.

And after that I am still growing flowers
out of the wound on my womb. They still
stink like ******* and after that
vomitting feels like womanhood thing. And
after that my flowers are still immortal and
that is why sometimes you see blood clot
floating around the moon.
jeremy wyatt Feb 2011
My demons come when I am weak
wounded lion spirit
hyenas scratching at my bloodied sides
fingers pushing at cracked glass soul
corpse of decayed love whisper vile insanities
once kind life voices mewling crowing
over fresh ****** wounds to new for rotten
push your grey fingers in through my split skin
fish hook tenderness as you disport in my misery
defiled by the profanity of soiled joy
black shapes flap and rattle at the thin glass
break through with the shards and pierce my soul
my heart is frozen by your lapping rising tide of eversore caresses
too late to cry for help if death comes to me in a demon's red eye
it will find a fallen spirit of light burnt by close flame falsehood
and regrets barren embraces
held in the grip of the twisted gone
it  is the crack-scabbed tomorrow that mocks my today
wounds cry tears of knife edge expectancy
arms shrink at cutting-shrine memories
God cannot stand against you but vomitting can play his role
4004  6015 numbers list your mocking horde
to late for redeemers blades
reject and defile the war cry of the un-dead
choosers of the slain cross skies of dead hope stars
No dandelion seed would stoop to carry my soul
too twisted for heaven's soil
rotted leaf shrine heat of decay warmth
no hell for demons to dwell carried within heart-carcass vessel
sail through eternities baying grief this reward
cherish fear and pain marks the hours of still alive
window of thin despair ready to crash but striving still
gossamer molecule threads still cleave to me
fight against 1916 cloying of death-sweet expectancy
shell hole camaraderie with last summers corpse gas kisses
twenty-eight pills later summer needs to come soon
at four degrees I can be water ice or gas can I be alive
AJ Aug 2013
I'm currenty somewhere between
Emotionally void
And too emotional.
It's not just OCD, or depression, or anxiety.
Or what everyone else thinks I have.
Just, you know,
ASPD.
Ha.
It makes me laugh.
**** yourself.
I need therapy again,
And I'm so jealous of those who can afford it.
I need meds,
And I'm so angry at those who can get it.
I know I need help.
But when you act out or ask for help
And all you get is silenced
Because it means your parenting is week
Because you care how it affects someone else instead
Because it is too much for you too handle
Because you'd rather I fix you,
Then I'm not going to get better.
Do you know how I solve it alone?
Razors and safety pins to make it dull,
Nyquil and Tylenol PM to get some rest.
***** and **** to medicate the main problems,
And binging and vomitting to get the physique back.
Maybe I don't need help.
This seems to be working pretty.
Well, only if pretty well means not at all.
PrttyBrd May 2015
Again I make one ill
I am
The Poetic Emetic
10w
5715
Uhh Who Jun 2016
i've had a fear of asking for what i want, or being ashamed to want things. it's a strange fear in hindsight, and i still struggle w/ it
2. it's amazing i've gotten anything done with how little confidence/assertiveness i exude. i'd say mostly luck tbh.
3. i've also had an urge to be a little more social lately which also clashes with how i identify myself as introverted or shy
4. and that surprised some people because in certain contexts i can be energetic or funny but i cant control that. i dont know
5. i often blank when comin up with jokes or funny material and it feels like im not myself when that happens. its not triggered by sadness
6. its just a blank, as if you're taking a test in school that you werent prepared for.
7. this is annoying to some people so sorry but being introspective on twitter helps me when the words come easily as they so rarely do..
8. gaming has always given me a reason to travel or be socialize without having to seek company, it's just always there.
9. but i know gaming wont last forever and maybe i just seek novelty, who knows.
10. i enjoy learning but i also get bored quickly so i usually pick up small useless bits of alot of topics, ppl see me as smarter than i am
11. and i am certainly envious of people who have accomplished more than me but otoh i am surrounded by them and its kind of inspiring
12. so the ego blow of not being the smartest in the room hurt for a while but it also pays off because i see what my peers are capable of
13. and thus can see what im capable of
14. sorry again for spamming/ranting, but i hope someone can maybe learn something useful from my own bsing lol
15. the amount of ways people can express themselves is incredible and ive always been bad at it, i think cuz i fear/avoid confrontation?
16. taking up space feels like guilt alot
17. emotional attachment to outcomes have held me back, but it's hard to let ago of that. its what i feel strongest towards, accomplishment.
18. going to TBH5 and my name being known by people i never met from a place ive never been was a crazy feeling as long as ive been in the game
19. although im not sure if it was from accomplishment as much as its been that ive been around for so long
20. and i also often feel guilty when people overestimate my expertise in tech, gaming etc and i cant help them
21. because it feels like a facade i put on of being super smart when im not, even though its not something i try to fool people with
22. and when i was younger i used to resent really sociable/popular people for having what i could have. being friendlier has helped that
23. but its also weird because i still hold onto that hurt and becoming something part of what you used to hate is a odd conflict to have
24. expressing empathy beyond "i'm sorry" or similar things is something else that's difficult, i never understood it and i cant fake it
25. narcissism is a trait i've despised in people and seen in those that dont have it but i see myself getting closer to it everyday sadly
26. i can get jealous of peoples success until i realize the work they put in, they i get jealous of how they can have such strong work ethic...
27. it took me ayear after losing weight/learning how to dress to realize girls weren't mocking me when they found me attractive lol
28. i feel like i've learned alot but im also so behind on everything
29. i wonder if i'll ever truly feel like an adult or if i'm meant to feel like a fraud forever lol
30. i dont know if i force myself to be social "just because" or if its what i actually want, i also take pride in my "shy" identity
31. i've apologized for being myself alot, i've even apologized for beating people in "janky" ways in game. its a bad habit
32. people make excuses for me when i play bad too which helps the ego but hurts in the long run, again its the expectations of others...
33. i know its impossible to be the best in every pursuit i follow but it still ***** feeling like i cant even come close, idk perfectionism
34. i've been friends with all my exes afterwards even the ones who cheated on me (minus the most recent) and im not sure if i was apathetic
35. or didnt value myself enough to see their behavior as a big deal
36. i've long since accepted im the common denominator in my failed relationships/friendships but i still have no idea what causes them to
37. it'd be too easy to blame all my problems on my weird but not necessarily awful childhood though
38. i thought getting a full time stable job would solve almost all my issues and it helped alot but not in the ways i thought
39. so it makes me wonder if anything i want really matters or would help
40. i also think im coming to terms with the fact that i may be a romantic person which conflicts with how i identify as a shy or cold person
41. my laziness gets so real sometimes im too lazy to even do fun stuff, like staring at the ceiling is so much more entertaining or something
42. ranting on an open platform is probably healthier than emotionally vomitting on another person and making them deal with it?
43. ive certainly thought about if i have anxiety or things like that but i dont want to give myself an excuse even if it is valid
44. alot of mental illnessses have become a buzzword these days which is such a shame and i feel for those who really struggle with them
45. and id end up becoming part of that problem, what i deal with is super trivial compared to what most ppl deal with
46. i wish i could always be aware of myself/talk stream of consciousness like this man
47. recently i was told a group of ppl who i thought didnt think of me at all didnt actually like me, which actually made me feel good?
48. being acknowledged even if its bad is good i guess, "no such thing as bad publicity" etc
49. idk maybe i need new distractions or maybe i need to stop distracting myself? who knows
50. feel like i've co-opted my friends accomplishments in lieu of my own while simultaneously hating to talk about myself
51. ex "my friend in X field or people who do Y for a living"
52. being associated with greatness while not doing so is a convenient excuse to not do ****
53. "shoot your shot" but i'd feel guilty about it too because finding someone attractive also makes me feel bad?
54. alot of things make me feel bad but not sad. i guess guilt is the best word to describe it
55. is this how m2k lives everyday *******
56. never liked the "ironic sadness" meme on tumblr etc but the writing that comes from it such as mira gonzalez/gabby bess is ******* amazing
57. i have no idea why i randomly gets bouts of being super nervous or paranoid either, over nothing
58. went to a bar yesterday and flinched/got surprised almost everytime the bartender asked me if i wanted a drink which made her nervous too
59. or at least i think so
60. i've gotten mad at people for not having confidence in themselves but ive somehow been ok with that trait in myself for so long
61. im sure ill be embarrassed about all these feels tweets later but **** it gotta strike while the iron is hot
62. it ***** when a friend of yours is dealing with stuff that you yourself aren't equipped for and you can't help them
63. it's so hard to express that you aren't abandoning them but that you are just useless in that situation
64. sometimes just being there isn't enough, but letting yourself get dragged into their problems isn't helpful either
65. the one big step ive made in the past year is learning to not feel guilty for doing things i enjoy though so thats a start
66. also what's the difference between persistence and being annoying/stubborn? it's arbitrary?
67. ive been reading alot but i barely remember what i read recently or what it was about, and im not 100% sure of my favorite color
68. none of those are good signs >_>
69. pride isn't a useless emotion but it certainly seems to hurt more than it helps
70. maybe i'll print out and frame my tweets from the past hour or so so i can remember how to feel again!
71. i have very few SI friends compared to brooklyn manhattan or elsewhere and i wanna change that but i also wanna leave SI #feelsBadMan
72. being contextually creative (such as jokes/stories) is alot different from being creative in general or on a whim
6/21/2016

Not really a poem or anything but yesterday I had a really rare bout of introspection that just came easily to me and I figured it'd be a waste to not share it
michele shulman May 2014
Life is but a series of redundancies strung together. Sitched with tragedy by ****** hands, I only hope not to stain the thread.

Every event in this existence is nothing more than a domino in an endless time loop
, constantly falling/ constantly falling / i am falling.

fact: the name of the spots on domino tiles are called pips and i’ve tried killing myself two times.

The night I snuck 3 orange bottles from the kitchen cupboard and melted into pillows/into bed sheets/ into wooden ikea frame
waking up to not shiny gates but my mother holding a skeleton in the shower
head in a galaxy so far way i almost missed my alarm clock.  
i wanted to hit the snooze but got a glass full of charcoal instead.
mm was just how i like my coffee, black and ***** inducing.

fact: charcoal is among the purest forms of carbon as are diamonds

I am not a diamond, but a piece of pyrite. fool’s gold.

The second time two years later involved a bulk bottle of excedrin
one part aspirin, one part tylenol, one part caffeine.
if you ever try to off yourself i don’t recommend this recipe,
dog ear it in your terminal cook book as do not try this at home
you will lie on your bedroom vomitting your intestines until your parents are tired of hearing it

They will make you go to school the next day.

You wont.

fact: The most common causes of death are heart disease and cancer. Suicide is number 11

My world spilled over like a bag of glass marbles hitting the floor
nothingness
Joshua Haines Jul 2016
Sunset orange spilling onto
the grass-splattered grotto;
where silicon body lay, wading,
and the ******* float up,
hovering bone-white ****,
emerald eyes towards the
galactic-gutter ceiling.

I.

Their knuckles drag the dust,
kissing broken boulder.
She wraps ***** arms around,
as she rests on his shoulder.

Birds swing and spin like
fleshy, fluid tops.
If you study them
with your tired eyes,
their dancing never stops.

II.

The cactus juice helps them
see each-other, and they
sing of spontaneous Gods
that torment the desert floor
they swim upon, waiting for
her, whom wades amongst stone.

Movies and shows, albums and
singles splinter their psyches;
what could you remind
that sneaks from behind,
and nibbles their Nikes.

III.

I remember the ways
she lied, his face cracked,
but I forgive her. I forgive
the other men she loved
instead of me, I forgive
her for accepting me,
I forgive myself for
believing that the
greater I hurt,
the deeper I loved.

Little girl scratched at the sand,
looking at him, her hair as dry
as the plants scampering by.
I have always loved you,
she croaked, I have always
been more than a child
in the dreams I share
with you. I feel as coarse
as this wasteland, existing
only to us, her, and a thread
hanging suspended from time.

IV.

Their bodies plopped onto
the moist, coffee soil.
They drank the ground,
their blood pushing faster,
racing the rushing tide.
And in the distance, a shine
before the eternity, a hope
beyond the shore.

A skeletal fist wrapped his wrist,
at the end, she asked him to forget.
But he dove and swam towards
the rock cave tomb, breaking
through the electric waves.

Little girl fell, knees swallowed
by the baptismal sand,
she wept and asked him
to come back, please
come back.


V.

His face brushed the stone wall,
he kissed and called until
wine-red smeared his face,
until he tasted copper
swarm his mouth.

A brief moment, he felt himself,
he felt the world photographed.
Rays spit out between the cracks,
rocks explode, vomitting over.

Shard of slate speared his stomach,
and he remembered October:
Santa Fe, where they fought,
she shoved, he begged,
battered lips brushing past,
leaving photo albums and a
note, in blue ballpoint,
stating that it would
never last.

VI.

Dying moments consisted
of anxious pulls at the shard,
cutting his hands open,
adrift towards her lifeless
pearl, pure exposed rib body,
begging, kissing, shoving,
proclamations of forgiveness.

Bleeding out, he shook her,
asking to be loved as the wall
closed, capturing their bodies,
preserving the desperation
of his broken nature.
He and she, bled,
bled, bled.
Pea Dec 2016
please
invite me
to the nearest
public bathroom
where it smells like
when you put your hand
on my right cheek
and we
kissed
and kissed
and kissed
with our mcdonald's
tongues

boy you were
literally
everything i
needed

i could go on
forever
until you made
vomitting sound
which i
didn't

it was dawn
we were warm
you left me
but you were the one
who cried
lkm Sep 2014
She looks at herself in the mirror
She groans, displeased with her figure
Cuts down food, skips her meals
No one knows how fat she feels.

Exercising day and night
Trying to fit in clothes too tight
5 pounds, 10 pounds, 20 pounds lost
She's got it controlled: she's her own boss.

A gut-wrenching feeling, it's all so new
Taking in food, but very very few
Feels like vomitting all of her time
To get back on her feet is a very long climb

Every bite was such a torture
Every swallow was even worse
She doesn't know, doesn't understand
Turning down every lending hand

She gets mad and she gets cranky
She's growing thin, her stomach's empty
She says she's fine, but in truth she lies
And day by day she slowly dies

Losing her friends, but only one stayed
But even that was a price she paid
Her friend told her to continue what she's doing
To stop eating her meals, to stop chewing

Her friend said she was fat, saying she's ugly
"Lose more weight, so that you'll be pretty"
Annie was her name, Annie was a liar
Annie's name is short for Anorexia
Matalie Niller Sep 2012
nevertheless
can't help but remember
what happend that day-
not so fun, huh?
not a proud moment in any of those 24 hours,
just nostalgic
destruction
wanting to go anywhere
to not think about there
here
and now and again
I return to those moments
not to reflect per se
but to induce vomitting-
not so fun
being compared to undesirables,
and yet
so fitting
in a way
or five hundred,
it's you.
Alif Imran Feb 2016
In the literally opinion of my own conscience,
I followed and dropped into the pool of swirling hopeless life,
Rotating as I shout my prayers, drowning.
I yelled and panic take over,
Water surges into my lungs, suffocating, coughing and vomitting water..
Slowly and painfully dying,
I died in vain,
In the lie of my own hopeless conscience.
Marie-Niege Mar 2014
i wear my baseball cap backwards
so that everyone around me
can see all of my
half-way decent face
and then I pin
paraphernelia
in the shape of buttons
all around its duck-bill mouth so that
everyone around me
that doesn't care
knows that I care
about
  something,
if not
  everything.
and in due time
I lose some things
that surrounds my head:
the people, the relics.
Safety pins unfastening
from its worn fibers,
and fluttering
behind my arched back.
My mind,
therefore there is no
organic thought
vomitting through me although
arguably,
I very well might be thinking in
my purest form,
and so I settle in that comfort,
leaving behind a trail of buttons
so that everyone around me
that doesn't care about anything knows that
I can be just like them.
people
Pea Oct 2014
Talking about trash and vomitting i am staring at the ceiling with my dry mouth open
I slept at three and woke up at eleven
It was a sunny morning my roommate left at seven she left the curtain open and why did not she let the window break sometimes i think of jumping but standing on height makes me want to fall to bed and hide under the blanket
I don't want to bathe and eat breakfast but i kept snacking and i wish i were that sweet tooth i haven't washed the dishes and ****** and i am thinking of
Being in a plane
Heat struck and breaking the window the wind the clouds the pressure
I don't know if i am still afraid of heights
I have never been that high enough anyway like i am on the second floor it's never high enough i think of the high buildings in the capital city but i just love her too much
I will not
I will not
I will not let them read me in newspapers
I still think about methods to die but it does not make sense anymore like i want to have bullets on my head like jesus' crown but i don't want the cold thing in my mouth i don't want my head to be a blood fountain out of the blue
I am too drained even to think of running and jumping off a cliff like it's actually dumb and not pretty and i hear that we have so much to live
We have so much to live
I didn't have my breakfast
I am too okay to think this laziness as depression i cannot blame my brain it is too okay it is too okay i am too okay i shouldn't complain
Too much
Too much i complain too much

You grow flowers out of your corpse but all i want to be is to decay into plastic and harm the earth and it's true that such a sad world we live in
I am getting you back here
Sonja i am getting you back here

You are still me
You are still me
You are still me

Welcome home
Nelsya Mar 2020
crawling crawling crawling
resurfacing from
the distinct memories
hitting every parts of you
like an atomic bomb

bawling bawling bawling
feeling full
and empty
at the same time
vomitting words, tears, and memories

dying dying dying
but you’re not
you’re breathing
just unstable
somehow sickening, but it will pass
you’ll be okay again
Tina RSH Sep 2019
My blood is sacred for it waters
the burning drought that surges
the barren outskirt of my skin
It ignites the grave of every dead muscle
killed for shooting a wide toothy smile
across my unquivering lips
It tells long forgotten tales
of all the women I used to be
but failed to see,with eyes shut
vomitting tears of self disdain
and a widespread rash over my skin
My blood is a red flag of relief
from a heap of decapitated veins
and the sardonic cold inside each *****
Every drop, a stifled scream for help
a pitiful plea to be noticed
And a scar-let seductress
waltzing across each arm
In the fading light of room
and the dying music of my heart
but my sacred blood still shines
it spills like barrels of wine
down the outskirts of my barren skin
and from each tiny particle
rises a woman that says "sacred"
Neet Apr 2017
The pain downstairs
Was too much to feel
Equal almost to a want
Crushed hence under
The unwanted theory of it

Left alone in some cabin
In an unexplored island
Where love wont devastate
Its honest memory wont hurt
A hurt I worship in secret

Every eye I see cries for me
Every tongue supports me
All are hurt by those actions
Actions which hurt me
Actions which loved me

I may have yelled some
Scratched and bruised pretty
But that time i did not hate
Ain't sure if i loved it either, but
That madness bothered me

At court i sweared holy books
Vomitting out my aggression
Which's easily misunderstood
As according to my family
I am a broken girl

I have but a horrible confession
For i feel dishonored not
I don't feel any shame
Along a life of misery and vain
I went through a consensual pain
Pk
Nao Sep 2019
vomitting words
that don't really matter
just going through stuff...
Hamzah Jul 5
This is a true story; of a group consisting 3 men
Eventually chose a different path.
To paint their tragedies
Into words

1. A stand up comedian.
Tragedy equals comedy, right?
Who are we kidding?
Laughter is indeed the best medicine
Laughter is indeed the best way
To forget about problems
Not to solve them.
Sounds familiar, don't you think?
Yeah, although it's much healthier than
Being an alcoholic.
Heck, in this frickin' country
In this economy
It's cheaper too!
Thus, let's wash our pain for a while
With a little bit of wits to laugh at
Until the scars finally stain.
The scars for later to be brag on
About the kind of struggle we've been through
About the kind of pain we've endure
About the kind of meds we've swallowed to flushed it off from our systems.
Talking about the rule of three right there.

2. A novelist.
Worry equals story, isn't it?
To elaborate things
In the most profound way possible
To dazzle the readers
To amaze them
To speak to them
Without actually
Speaking to them
Making them realize that
That kind of problems do exist
In the most notorious way possible
Hiding in plain sight
Waiting for someone
To unravel the truth
Via the three acts structure.
Talking about the rule of three right there.

3. A poet.
Vulnerability equals poetry, was it?
Not covering tragedy with comedy
This is romanticizing pain
Unspeakable pain
Not because the pain is unspoken
But the speaker
Is unable to speak
The tweeter
Is unable to tweet
The chatter
Is unable to chat
Disguising itself in rhymes
Emphasizing itself in repetition
Pain–pain–pain–pain–pain
Until the word lost its meaning
Doing it over and over again
Highlighting the word that he wants to forget
Fragile–fragile–fragile
Fallen–fallen–fallen
Broken–broken­–broken
Talking about the rule of three right there.

People write
Sometimes just because they can't speak
Not because they don't have mouth
But because they don't have the ability to
Or because they don't choose to

Speak for yourself!
And that's exactly what people did
By writing punchlines
By vomitting stories from their brain
By arranging the shattered pieces of themselves
Into letters
Into words
Into sentences
Into bits or paragraphs or verses
Into a whole

Write–write–write–write–write–write
Over and over again
Until it lost its meaning.
The birds whistle away
Tweeting favourite lullabies.
The sun has transformed
Oranging,
From her brilliant yellow hue.
She vanished,
Hiding in her room.

The day
Which once posed
In bright neon shades
Of noon,
Has tasted the shadows
Of the moon.

A slice of the moon
Flaunts herself
In the naked, neutral dark skies.
The earth rages queerly.
Vomitting  a warning sign.


My mind dabbles
In its ignorant guessing
As I gaze upon
The uncertain skies.

I feel like a meteor
Might fall to the earth
Tonight.
Sometimes I feel like I can predict the next minute but it turns out I am not always right.
Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017
I remember thinking.
How strange it was.
That I felt peace.

Imagining.

Vomitting.

In their plates.

— The End —