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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)
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.


Re: Crumbed Chicken (User Rating: 1 )
by Jackee_line on Sunday, 31st October 2004 @ 09:55:14 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
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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