ballsdofpoetry

[ballsdofpoetry]

“not all man”

you’re right Jack champion would never

[ballsdofpoetry]

Beyond the Mirror

TW:ED

Original work. Please don’t publish to any of forms of media

In a world of counting calories and ideal body types,

I found myself lost in a battle with my own mind,

Obsessed with the numbers on the scale and the mirror's reflection,

I spiraled into the grips of an eating disorder's deception.

It started innocently enough, just wanting to lose a few pounds,

But soon it consumed me, my thoughts constantly bound,

To every morsel of food that passed my lips,

Calculating and restricting, my mind in a constant eclipse.

I would skip meals and make excuses,

Avoiding social gatherings and making abuses,

Of my body's hunger cries and pleas,

For nourishment and sustenance, my mind at unease.

I would spend hours in front of the fridge,

Tempted by the food within, but my thoughts would digress,

Into a cycle of guilt and shame,

For wanting to indulge, it felt like a blame.

I would weigh myself multiple times a day,

Striving for that number to decrease in every way,

But no matter how much weight I lost,

I still felt empty and lost, the disorder's cost.

I became a prisoner in my own body,

A slave to the disorder's demands, feeling shoddy,

I would push away family and friends,

Isolating myself in this battle that never ends.

But deep down, I knew I needed help,

To break free from this cycle of self-doubt and yelp,

I reached out to a therapist, someone who could guide,

Me towards recovery, to heal the wounds that had been tied.

Through therapy and support, I learned to nourish my body,

To listen to its cues and cravings, to not feel shoddy,

I began to challenge my negative thoughts,

To reframe my beliefs and untangle the knots.

I surrounded myself with love and compassion,

Embracing my imperfections and taking action,

To heal from the wounds of the past,

And create a future that would last.

It wasn't easy, the road to recovery,

But with every step forward, I regained my bravery,

To face the demons that had haunted me,

To reclaim my life and finally be free.

So if you find yourself in a similar battle,

With an eating disorder's grip that feels like a rattle,

Reach out for help, don't suffer alone,

You are worthy of healing, of reclaiming your own throne.

Remember, recovery is possible,

With the right support and a mindset that is feasible,

You can overcome the disorder's hold,

And find peace and freedom in a life that's bold.

[ballsdofpoetry]

Scars of Silence

Tw: SELF H@RM

Original work. Please don’t publish to any of forms of media.

In the quiet loneliness of the night,

A battle rages within, out of sight,

The pain and anguish seem too much to

bear,

So I turn to self-harm to show I care.

The razor blade a glinting silver line,

A siren call that promises to be mine,

I press it to my skin, a gentle touch,

And feel the pain being to blood, as

such.

The blood that trickle down, a crimson

stream,

A physical manifestation of a dream,

Of escaping from the torment deep

inside,

Of funding a way to let the pain subside.

But the relief it fleeting, quickly gone,

And in its wake, a sense of quit, so strong,

I know that I have hurt myself anew,

And yet urge remains, so deep, so

true.

I long to break free from this vicious

cycle,

To find a way to heal, to reconcile,

The darkness that resides within my soul,

And find a way to once again feel whole.

But the road ahead is long and steep,

And the journey is not one I can cheap,

But I know that I must find a way,

To overcome my demons, come what

may.

So I reach out for help, a trembling hand,

And hope that someone will understand,

That despite the scars that mark my skin,

I am worthy of love, hope, of kin.