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Crumbed Chicken
Contributed by
Hollie85
on
Sunday, 31st October 2004 @ 06:02:55 AM in AEST
Topic:
SadPoetry
|
As I sit down for tea,
my stomach grumbles.
I ate half hour ago,
but I welcome my food.
A stuff my face,
full of crumbed chicken.
Munging really quickly,
not even tasting.
I finish my plate,
within ten minutes.
My stomach settles,
I wait for the tears.
I run to the toilet,
welcoming my finger.
I plunge it deeply,
in my throat.
And in one motion,
my muscles tense.
I bring back,
my crumbed chicken.
Copyright ©
Hollie85
... [
2004-10-31 06:02:55] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Crumbed Chicken
(User Rating: 1 ) by deathdrop on
Sunday, 31st October 2004 @ 06:39:26 AM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
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I know a lot of people that do this to them selves. But why do you do it? Do you get an adrenalin rush or some thing? I have to ask because I’m curious but if you don’t want to answer don’t worry abuse it. |
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Re: Crumbed Chicken
(User Rating: 1 ) by Jackee_line on
Sunday, 31st October 2004 @ 09:55:14 AM AEST (User
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a Message)
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I totally relate to your poem, been there.
It is very hard to stop, please get counselling. It took me ten years to stop purging. |
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