Published March 5, 2012
I am consumed. I am consumed with this pain, longing, mind warping feeling that so many people dismiss as average. Mostly anyone would change any physical aspect of themselves. Mostly everyone is dissatisfied with the way they look.
Intensify this feeling, leave a crater from an eating disorder and pull away the debris and you get me: stuck. It's the feeling of braving a mirror and telling myself I am pretty, I do have a chance, that I'm not an eyesore, but then realizing, those are just meaningless words, words built to create a sort of comfort mechanism in my head.
It's seeing my legs, thinking of nothing but tree trunks, but still lotioning them anyway, thinking one day they could be attractive. It's seeing a round face and thinking of nothing but a saucer, and seeing the lips that are too small nearly smack in the middle. It's seeing eyes that should be pretty, if only they weren't drowning in face fat.
It's hearing grease popping on the stove of dinner and correlating the sound to the brick body under my head. It's thinking in numbers, seeing the calories, mapping up a person's physical statistics, grudgingly calculating my own and finding the residual from their numbers to mine.
It's thinking in jean sizes, dress sizes, inches and rolls of fat. It's comparing body sizes, and praying that someone else might not notice I look like a blimp today. Prom dress shopping? No thanks. Girls day out shopping?
Does that include lunch? If so, I think I'll pass.
I'll stay home and eat what I plan to be a healthier lunch, but end up eating triple times that much anyway. Or in my mind.
It's seeing hair, glossy and shiny on someone else's head. Isn't mine like that too? Shiny?
Try ten times thinner and glossed with wax.
It's seeing a content smile of someone with a man's hand around their shoulder, the satisfaction they share with eachother. It's seeing approval in the eyes of other people. It's seeing myself in a picture, and seeing that
I look good, happy, pretty, content,
airbrushed,
downsized,
features magnified,
perfect nails,
a smile built to last, forever on my beautiful face....
The one I don't have, and can only have with the help of a computer screen, a scapple, heavy make up and liposuction of all the real happiness
that I seem to lose sight of every once in a while.
Dear me, life is worth the trade.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
141,251 Literary Works • 674,330 Reviews
Everyone around the world struggles with eating disorders, including me. I have bulimia, and I think in this writing work, you're talking about anorexia. Anorexia affects many people today, including a lot of teen girls. You really showed how much it affects people.
''Mostly anyone would change any physical aspect of themselves. Mostly everyone is dissatisfied with the way they look.''
Confidence is a hard quality to gain. Us, humans always think about how we look to others. We want that approval that we look good and that we are worthy, and when we don't get that satisfaction from another human being that we're pretty/handsome, we tend to have self-consciousness about ourselves.
''It's hearing grease popping on the stove of dinner and correlating the sound to the brick body under my head. It's thinking in numbers, seeing the calories, mapping up a person's physical statistics, grudgingly calculating my own and finding the residual from their numbers to mine.''
I kind of like the way you put this part here. It must be really difficult for a person with an eating disorder to really have a good time. You're always going to be consumed about what, and how much you eat. Just eating that one burger will not guarantee that you will get fat or gain a 30 pounds (unless you do it all the time on a weekly basis).
''Does that include lunch? If so, I think I'll pass.
I'll stay home and eat what I plan to be a healthier lunch, but end up eating triple times that much anyway. Or in my mind.
It's seeing hair, glossy and shiny on someone else's head. Isn't mine like that too? Shiny?
Try ten times thinner and glossed with wax.
It's seeing a content smile of someone with a man's hand around their shoulder, the satisfaction they share with eachother. It's seeing approval in the eyes of other people. It's seeing myself in a picture, and seeing that
I look good, happy, pretty, content,''
I'm not sure you have heard of Olivia Rodrigo (beautiful singer by the way) but some aspects of your poem, including this part seems to be about jealousy. You know how the narrator keeps seeing how other girls look this way, and she really wants to be this way, almost like envy. Olivia has a song called Jealousy,Jealousy. It's really good and really relates to your poem a lot.
I really enjoyed reading your poem today, and I hope you stay positive and healthy friend. XOXO, lovelydove and HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!!
Everyone around the world struggles with eating disorders, including me. I have bulimia, and I think in this writing work, you're talking about anorexia. Anorexia affects many people today, including a lot of teen girls. You really showed how much it affects people.
''Mostly anyone would change any physical aspect of themselves. Mostly everyone is dissatisfied with the way they look.''
Confidence is a hard quality to gain. Us, humans always think about how we look to others. We want that approval that we look good and that we are worthy, and when we don't get that satisfaction from another human being that we're pretty/handsome, we tend to have self-consciousness about ourselves.
''It's hearing grease popping on the stove of dinner and correlating the sound to the brick body under my head. It's thinking in numbers, seeing the calories, mapping up a person's physical statistics, grudgingly calculating my own and finding the residual from their numbers to mine.''
I kind of like the way you put this part here. It must be really difficult for a person with an eating disorder to really have a good time. You're always going to be consumed about what, and how much you eat. Just eating that one burger will not guarantee that you will get fat or gain a 30 pounds (unless you do it all the time on a weekly basis).
''Does that include lunch? If so, I think I'll pass.
I'll stay home and eat what I plan to be a healthier lunch, but end up eating triple times that much anyway. Or in my mind.
It's seeing hair, glossy and shiny on someone else's head. Isn't mine like that too? Shiny?
Try ten times thinner and glossed with wax.
It's seeing a content smile of someone with a man's hand around their shoulder, the satisfaction they share with eachother. It's seeing approval in the eyes of other people. It's seeing myself in a picture, and seeing that
I look good, happy, pretty, content,''
I'm not sure you have heard of Olivia Rodrigo (beautiful singer by the way) but some aspects of your poem, including this part seems to be about jealousy. You know how the narrator keeps seeing how other girls look this way, and she really wants to be this way, almost like envy. Olivia has a song called Jealousy,Jealousy. It's really good and really relates to your poem a lot.
I really enjoyed reading your poem today, and I hope you stay positive and healthy friend. XOXO, lovelydove and HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!!
I'm not good at reviewing, and I can't really find much I disagree with here. This really touched me.
*I also wanted to add I didn't really read over this much before submitting it. It's not done in a proper format, and that is entirely on purpose.