It's Not Their Fault

This poem was inspired by a youtube I watch talking about their anorexia. And it got me think anorexia and a few of the other eating disorders.

He frowned looking in the mirror,

He still wasn’t thin enough,

The scale still laughed at his,

Showing 130,

It was too much,

So what if he could count his rips,

So what if his stomach growled,

It was too much,

He had to weigh less,

He had to be perfect,

It was fine if the wasn’t any muscle,

And he was tired all the time,

He had to be perfect,

He made excuses as his mother eyed him worriedly,

As he skipped yet another meal,

~

She stuck he fingers down her throat,

Bringing back up the meal her mother cooked,

It burned and she hated the feeling,

But she had to do it,

The girls in her class whispered every day,

Going on about how she was so fat,

How she was so ugly,

She would prove them wrong,

She would become perfect,

Even as her parents looked at her with worry,

And her little siblings whined on how she was to bony,

She had to be perfect,

~

He shoveled food into his mouth,

He wanted nothing more than to stop,

He felt like he’s already eaten too much,

But his football coach,

Also known as his dad,

Said he needed to gain the weight,

He needed to be 20 pounds more,

Yet he also had to make sure to workout,

He hated this,

But he had to be perfect,

He has to be perfect,

He groaned and ate some more,

Even as his stomach clenched,

He had to be perfect,

~

She sat in her bathroom and cried,

She did it again,

She ate so much,

Too much,

All the 24 doughnuts,

And more then a couple bars of candy,

She had to perfect,

But how could she be,

When all she could do was eat,

She already knew for the next week,

She would eat only lettuces,

And maybe some carrots,

She had to be perfect,

She had to be,

~

None of them see that they already are,

That they are perfect,

They are beautiful and wonderful,

Like the football player,

He has a heart of gold,

And loves lending a helping hand,

To anyone who needs it,

And for his dad,

He plays a sport he hates,

And kills him self with the workouts and ‘gaining’ weight,

And the boy who starves him self,

His helps his mom every night,

You see his dad left,

And he’s all she has,

And she has two jobs,

And often needs help cleaning house,

And sometimes buying some food,

She is his world,

And the girl who throws up after every meal,

She spends most her night helping her siblings with their homework,

And she always makes sure they get a story before bed,

Well after she fights the monsters in the closet and under the bed,

And that girl,

Who was crying in the bathroom,

Every night she volunteers at the soup kitchen,

Making sure they all get a good meal,

None of them are ugly in anyway,

But little factors in their life have lead them to see otherwise,

But it’s not their fault,

They all suffer from different but similar diseases,

And they need help,

It’s not wrong,

It’s not sick,

And it’s not funny,

And hopefully,

One day,

If they do get that help,

They can look at their reflection,

And see what everyone else saw from the start.