Young Writers Society

She sheds it,
like a dog sheds its fur,
scrubbing away
the guilt she feels,
the ugly she sees,
all over her,
like a blemish
simply everywhere.

She ignores the food,
calling to her,
impatient,
incessant.
She doesn't need it,
doesn't deserve it,
she tells herself,
as its scents
waft to her
and beckon,
day and night.

Her friends are watching
the pounds,
sliding away,
slithering slyly,
as if
not to waken
the skin above
or bones beneath.

She smiles meekly
when they ask
if she's okay.
Of course she is:
she always is.

It's a penance
for her sins,
years of ugly,
of selfish,
of mean,
of stupid.
She cannot eat,
cannot,
cannot,
cannot,
she tells herself.

The fat crawls away,
scared by her,
by the beast
she sees in the mirror.

The beast has taken over.

as its scent's

This was a very powerful poem, as far as you can go with power in relation to anorexia.

I really liked reading it although it was really kind of sad. Your imagery was really good and your flow and word structure was great, too.

Other than the one bit I quoted above, where I added an apostrophe, I see no mistakes and kind of enjoyed this poem!

Awesome job!

Keep writing,
Justagirl

P.S. I hope you and your friend's experiences are over, for the sake of your health and sanity.

Eek! I hope your friend is okay. <3

I am going to be a little nit-picky here... please don't mind me!

She sheds it,
like a dog sheds its fur,

I don't quite like this simile. I know what you mean by it, because you mean that a dog loses fur constantly and an anorexic person would also lose pounds constantly. But, I don't know. The simile just made me uncomfortable because we used to call our dog a German shedder (instead of shepherd) as kind of an affectionate joke as we pet her, so it bothers me that pounds are described in this way. Then again, maybe it bothers me because my dog died in July and I am extra sensitive over that particular issue.

Also, in this case, the food calls to to her... but I think that would be wrong to say in most anorexia cases, because food doesn't really call out to these people. They just ignore it completely. Calling indicates that they hear it, but that is not necessarily true. Maybe it was true for your friend? I don't know. Just something to consider!

She smiles meekly
when they ask
if she's okay.
Of course she is:
she always is.

It seems weird that you say that and then the next stanza you go on to say that she is a beast and everything. I think it would be more apt to make this more sarcastic and say something like when is it ever okay? Or something. I mean, that sort of thing happens with these people.... deflection, as it were.

Anyway! I think the first four stanzas are a little bit rambly and not to the point and rather generic, but the last three stanzas are fantastic. I love the repetition of "cannot" because that reminds me of those mantras. She can not. So, she loses the abilities of being able to do anything. And I really like that, since she "can not" she loses herself so that she gets consumed by the beast. It seems, almost, that this is an opposite religious experience... that is, in saying that she can not, she gets closer to not being (as opposed to being) and thus loses herself to the beast. Uh huh. Plus, you have the idea of penance here. Anyway, there are really neat religious implications here, regardless of the religion! It's fantastic.

As far as this part is concerned, I think the only real problem is that fat is solitary in crawling away... a lot of other things crawl away too, including muscle, hair, and the sexual ability to reproduce. I mean, anorexia is awful. When my friend was going into treatment, I know I used to write her and say, "Hey! Look on the bright side. This means that you are going to actually enjoy thinking about sex!" because when you are anorexic, that longing actually goes away... or at least slips away (though it might be there).

ANYWAY. I hope your friend is better. Give her a big hug.

Ouch.
That was so painful to read as I've been there, done that.

She cannot eat,
cannot,
cannot,
cannot,
she tells herself.

This part is so powerful, because of the longing for food always being there.

So, I think that this poem is (ironically) flawless.
However, that maybe only because I understand it all.
Those who have never experienced an eating disorder at any time of their lives might not think this poem particularly engaging, but that would be because it wouldn't bring out any kind of emotional reaction in them.
That might be a problem. A poet would probably want to appeal to most people using their poetry.
To resolve this, it might be a good idea to add more emotion to it. Instead of just describing what we see, you should describe what somebody with anorexia feels.
However, that would probably be the same as asking somebody to describe the concept of life... I mean, er, do we really have clue?

But I still love your poem just the way it is. It's raw and honest.
So keep writing.
Emmzziee