Eating Disordered
Oct 19, 2022
A Poem About Binge Eating Disorder
If I know one thing about food, it has never hurt me. I say as I stuff my face for the third time this week. Binge, eat, binge. Is my routine. As I look around my room, at the time that has passed. All I can see is the pile of trash beneath me. Wrappers, caps, scraps. Plates stained by the shame of this unhealthy dance. I’ve learned the steps so easily. It doesn’t take much. Chewing, not tasting as endorphins rush and fill me with fleeting happiness. This can’t be happiness. I drink my tears of remorse and regret, hiding the remnants of the previous episode. Badly, I want to change the channel. Back to the old me. The days before food became my enemy.
