I am standing here.
Cascading waterfalls of teardrops bursting forth from my gray-blue eyes.
I'm not good enough.
Shards of glass lay scattered by my feet.
Shards of what used to be a glistening reflection of my ugliness.
A record of my every flaw.
And proof that no matter what, I'm not good enough.
That mirror no longer exists.
Just its broken pieces that lay on the cold tile floor,
Along with the broken pieces of my heart.
So I coat on the makeup to cover my tears.
Pull on the mask of happiness,
Though I'm sobbing deep within my soul.
Stepping into the room of judgement.
Otherwise know as the high school cafeteria:
A map of this school's social ladder.
I've tried to climb this ladder,
But countless times
I've fallen.
Spiraling downward into blackness before I've even reached the bottom rung.
Fallen down.
Students cheerfully walking through the lunchline.
I cannot.
I won't let myself
To be tempted.
To give in.
To eat.
That would push me off of that ladder before I even set my hands on it.
I run to the bathroom
Finding a solace in one of the stalls
Where the puke colored paint is peeling and the shiny metal stall is revealed.
I am just the same, coated in a disgraceful exterior,
But a shimmering ruby deep inside.
Why can't anyone see
That I am just like this high school bathroom stall?
I wait until the room is empty
And hang my head over the toilet.
There is a rushing burning feeling bubbling up in my throat.
And soon
A fraction of my fatness is rushing out of me.
One fraction of a pound gone.
And a billion more to go.
I look down at myself.
Why?
Why can't I be picture perfect like everyone else?
I will do what it takes.
I don't care if I kill myself in the process.
Then I will at least die knowing I was steps away from perfection
Instead of the miles that lie ahead of me until I reach that golden state.
I will be skinny.
An image is plastered into my memory.
Etched into my heart.
Engraved into my soul.
An image of "her"
The girl that has everything
Perfection flowing from her every root.
I am not "her."
I'm not good enough.
Author notes
I hope my poem is okay for this contest. I am only 12 and I don't know much about eating disorders but I tried to put myself in the shoes of someone who has a distorted perspective of what they look like. I hope you enjoyed reading it and if you have any suggustions please comment.
A contest entry
- x Speak for the image x by x-Black-Butterfly-x.
300 points, ended June 10, 2008, 45 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Eating Disorders and Depression by BarbedWireButterfly.
900 points, ended July 16, 2008, 35 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please comment if you have time! I would love to know what you think of my poem! :D
Comments
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it's amazing that someone your age who has not experienced an eating disorder can write such an accurate description of the way it feels to have an eating disorder.
the imagery was also amazing, i felt like i was right there.
no doubt i have been right there, not exactly but close.
great write. you're amazingly insightful.
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An interesting write. At the beginning some bits seemed to be repeated but that is about it. Quiet a good write for a 12 year old =D Thank you for entering and good luck.
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Beautiful write. Keep on writing.
Nice for a free verse =]
I love how you can understand something so completely that you dont go through; how you can reltae so well to all who do.
Anonymousxo -
this is a powerful write and you have penned and displayed the exact feelings that I have within my self and mind each day.you have placed the truth of a person who is ill within it and i loved it howeevr one suggestion for you try cutting the poem down as a lengthy poem can leave the reader unwilling to continue it. well done
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