Poem: Empty

[carahmellow]

Hi there's a lot of good stuff here. I do think that a lot could be trimmed, there is a lot of repetition and eliminating it would help the poem greatly. Also on another note, I know with some people it may be preference but the trend these days is to not capitalise the beginning of each line. Some people see it as archaic, but mostly it will help with the flow and keep the emphasis in the right places. 

Empty

Curled away,
In a cave of blankets,
Cocooning yourself from the freezing 75-degree air - 'curled away' and 'cocooning' are the same thing. This could be condensed into something liked 
'Cocooned in a cave of blankets from the freezing...'

It might just be me but 'freezing 75-degree air' confused me first time round. I work in celsius so it took me a while to get what you were meaning. Perhaps a mention of a summer's day or something similar may help.

that penetrates your the skin and coils around your frail bones. - good image.
Your Fingers are wrapped around your wrists,
Or laid directly on your hips,
To ensuring the you had earlier coffee didn’t make you bigger.
Because The barista definitely put used whole milk in it.
You don’t know for sure,
But it only makes sense because It was creamier?
Wasn’t it?

You continue to wait—
Listening to the clock tick by,
Waiting for a moment you can sneak out of your room
To pour another glass of diet something
And satiate the emptiness eating at your core.
Because you swore
The day before
That you would do better.

The obsession is constantly screaming.
Making it impossible to ignore,
It’s a constant chore,
That you have to feed.
But not actually feed, because that includes calories.  - do you need any of this stanza?

It’s all you think about—
When you’ll be able to put something else in your mouth.
But you pretend you’re fine,
When in reality, you’re only thinking about the next time
You can switch out your gum for a fresh piece.
And when you're done,
You open up your bedside journal,
Not to talk about your day,
But to calculate the way
You made yourself bigger.

10 + 5 + 50 + 100 =
Too much.

You should have just skipped lunch,
Because at this rate, you’ll fail.
Who cares if you’re frail
And covered in hair?
Your entire identity will come crumbling to the ground.
Because this is what you're good at.

So tomorrow, you will do better.
Tomorrow,

You’ll be in the hospital,
Being wheeled into your room, because they won’t let you walk.
They'll tell you to eat your food,
Or they'll resort to the tube
and that if you had gone on longer,
You could have died.

So you chose to thrive.
You looked into the eyes
Of this heinous monster

And survived.

You get the idea. I don't want to go into a full line by line when it's in mild crit.
I like the conversational tone it works well for this poem, I  think it could be a lot less verbose and repetitive, without losing that conversational tone, and it would tighten up the poem nicely.
It opens up with some good imagery in the first few lines, 'cave of blankets' and cold air coiling around frail bones. I would of liked to have seen more imagery throughout the poem but it kind of ended there.

You've got some good stuff to work from here, look forward to reading more.

Its funny you mention that stanza... because I put it in after the poem was fully fleshed out, and I have been debating removing it... so you helped me see it a little more clearly, and that it doesnt actually fit and needs removed. I agree with better imagery. I will definitely work on that.