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I Need A New Friend. I Need A Friend, Period. Not A True Friend, Nothing Close Or Share Clothes Or Sleepover Giggle Giggle Yak Yak. Just A Pseudo-friend, Disposable Friend. Friend As Accessory. Just So I Don't Feel Or Look So Stupid.

-Laurie Halse Anderson

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I Need A New

Laurie Halse Anderson

...

I Need A New Friend. I Need A Friend, Period. Not A True Friend, Nothing Close Or Share Clothes Or Sleepover Giggle Giggle Yak Yak. Just A Pseudo-friend, Disposable Friend. Friend As Accessory. Just So I Don't Feel Or Look So Stupid.

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None Of [the Books Are] Worth Reading. There Are No Fairy Tales, No Faerie Tails, No Sword-swinging Princesses Or Lightning-throwing Gods.

There Is Something About Christmas That Requires A Rug Rat. Little Kids Make Christmas Fun. I Wonder If Could Rent One For The Holidays.

I Decapitated Dandelions All Morning, Leaving Carnage And Death Strewn Into My Path.

Dead Girl Walking” The Boys Say In The Halls. “tell Us Your Secrets” The Girls Whisper, One Toilet To Another. "i Am That Girl. I Am The Spaces Between My Thighs, Daylight Shinning Through. I Am The Bones They Want, Wired On A Porcelain Frame.

I Am Learning How To Be Angry And Sad And Lonely And Joyful And Excited And Afraid And Happy.

This Is Wonderful, Wonderful! Be The Bird. You Are The Bird. Sacrifice Yourself To Abandoned Family Values.

I'm The Only One Sitting Alone, Under The Glowing Neon Sign Which Reads, "complete And Total Loser, Not Quite Sane. Stay Away. Do Not Feed.

Why? You Want To Know Why? Step Into A Tanning Booth And Fry Yourself For Two Or Three Days. After Your Skin Bubbles And Peels Off, Roll In Coarse Salt, Then Pull On Long Underwear Woven From Spun Glass And Razor Wire. Over That Goes Your Regular Clothes, As Long As They Are Tight.

I Have Survived. I Am Here. Confused, Screwed Up, But Here. So, How Can I Find My Way? Is There A Chain Saw Of The Soul, An Ax I Can Take To My Memories Or Fears?

Why Not Draw Naked Guys, Just To Be Fair? Naked Women Is Art, Naked Guys A No-no, I Bet. Probably Because Most Painters Are Men.

It Doesn't Hurt. Nothing Hurts Except The Small Smiles And Blushes That Flash Across The Room Like Tiny Sparrows.

Emma Is A Mattress Who Got Thrown Off The Truck When Her Parents Split Up. It's Not Like You Can Blame A Mattress When People Don't Tie It Down Tight Enough.

Two Days Later, Two Days Before Christmas, I Am Judged Fat And Sane Enough To Be Kicked Out Of The Hospital. The Plan To Send Me Straight Back To New Seasons Won't Work. There Is No Room At The Inn For A Leather Lia-skin Plumped Full Of Messy Things. Not Yet. The Director Promises Dr. Marrigan He'll Have A Bed For Me Next Week. I'm Stable Enough To Go Home Until Then. They All Say I'm Stable.

If I Can Write A Book That Will Help The World Make A Little More Sense To A Teen, Then That's Why I Was Put On The Planet.

Censorship Is The Child Of Fear And The Father Of Ignorance.

Having To Parent Your Mother Or Father Is A Challenge That Way Too Many Teens Have To Deal With. Teens Whose Parents Are Dealing With Substance Abuse, Financial Hardship, Job Loss, Mental Illness And Divorce Deserve Our Love, Support, And Compassion. I Wish America Would Stop Judging And Criticizing Teens And Instead, Try To Understand The Battles They Have To Fight Every Day.

They're On Their Way To The Foreign-language Wing. That's No Surprise. The Foreign Kids Are Always Here, Like They Need To Breathe Air Scented With Their Native Language A Couple Times A Day Or They'll Choke To Death On Too Much American.

I See It In The Hallway. It Goes To Merryweather. It Is Walking With Aubrey Cheerleader. It Is My Nightmare And I Can't Wake Up.it Sees Me. It Smiles And Winks. Good Thing My Lips Are Stitched Together Or I'd Throw Up.

I Reach For Funny Books All The Time To Help Me Get Through Life.

There Is No Magic Cure, No Making It All Go Away Forever. There Are Only Small Steps Upward; An Easier Day, An Unexpected Laugh, A Mirror That Doesn't Matter Anymore.

I Sit At A Table Close To His Desk. Ivy Is In This Class. She Sits By The Door. I Keep Staring At Her, Trying To Make Her Look At Me. That Happens In Movies - People Can Feel It When Oother People Stare At Them And They Just Have To Turn Around And Say Something. Either Ivy Has A Great Force Field, Or My Lazer Vision Isn't Very Strong.

Do I Want To Die From The Inside Out Or The Outside In?

Eating Disorder

I Just Want To Sleep. A Coma Would Be Nice. Or Amnesia. Anything, Just To Get Rid Of This, These Thoughts, Whispers In My Mind. Did He Rape My Head, Too?

Rumors Are Spread By Jealous People

I Lift My Arm Out Of The Water. It's A Log. Put It Back Under And It Blows Up Even Bigger. People See The Log And Call It A Twig. They Yell At Me Because I Can't See What They See. Nobody Can Explain To Me Why My Eyes Work Different Than Theirs. Nobody Can Make It Stop.

It Had Been A Good Day, All Things Considered. I Had Managed Rather Well On My Own. I Opened Grandfather's Bible. This Is What It Would Be Like When I Had My Own Shop, Or When I Traveled Abroad. I Would Always Read Before Sleeping. One Day, I'd Be So Rich I Would Have A Library Full Of Novel To Choose From. But I Would Always End The Evening With A Bible Passage.

Can The Plural Possessive Express The Feelings In Your Heart? If You Don't Learn Art Now, You Will Never Learn To Breathe!

School Libraries Are The Foundations Of Our Culture – Not Luxuries.

I've Written In Every Imaginable Location; A Repurposed Closet, The Kitchen Table, The Bleachers While My Kids Had Basketball Practice, The Front Seat Of The Car When They Were At Soccer. In Airports. On Trains. In The Break Room When I Was Supposed To Be Wolfing Down Dinner. In The Back Of Classrooms When I Was Supposed To Be Paying Attention.

I Watch The Eruptions. Mount Dad, Long Dormant, Now Considered Armed And Dangerous. Mount Saint Mom, Oozing Lava, Spitting Flame. Warn The Villagers To Run Into The Sea.

I Believe That You've Created A Metaphorical Universe In Which You Can Express Your Darkest Fears. In One Aspect, Yes, I Believe In Ghosts, But We Create Them. We Haunt Ourselves, And Sometimes We Do Such A Good Job, We Lose Track Of Reality.

None Of [the Books Are] Worth Reading. There Are No Fairy Tales, No Faerie Tails, No Sword-swinging Princesses Or Lightning-throwing Gods.

I Would Never Be Popular. I Didn't Want To Be; I Liked Being Shy. I'd Never Be The Smartest Or The Hottest Or The Happiest. By Eighth Grade You Start To Figure Out Your Limits.

If I Run Or Breathe Too Deep, The Cheap Stitches Holding Me Together Will Snap, And All The Stickiness Inside Will Pour Out And Burn Through The Concrete.

I Don't Just Use Yarn From A Store. I Buy Old Sweaters From Consignment Shops. The Older The Better, And Unravel Them. There Are Countries Of Women In This Scarf/shawl/blanket. Soon It Will Be Big Enough To Keep Me Warm.

Sometimes I Think High School Is One Long Hazy Activity: If You Are Tough Enough To Survive This, They'll Let You Become An Adult. I Hope It's Worth It.

I Want To Go To Sleep And Not Wake Up, But I Don’t Want To Die.

You’re Not Dead, But You’re Not Alive, Either. You’re A Wintergirl.

I Don't Just Use Yarn From A Store. I Buy Old Sweaters From Consignment Shops. The Older The Better, And Unravel Them. There Are Countries Of Women In This Scarf/shawl/blanket. Soon It Will Be Big Enough To Keep Me Warm.

I Scared Myself, Because Once You've Thought Long And Hard Enough About Doing Something That Is Colossally Stupid, You Feel Like You've Actually Done It, And Then You're Never Quite Sure What Your Limits Are.

The Stars Whirled Above Us And The Firecrackers Blazed. The Moon Stood Watch As Drops Of Blood Fell, Careless Seeds That Sizzled In The Snow.

I Want To Be In Fifth Grade Again. Now, That Is A Deep Dark Secret, Almost As Big As The Other One. Fifth Grade Was Easy -- Old Enough To Play Outside Without Mom, Too Young To Go Off The Block. The Perfect Leash Length.

I Am Learning How To Be Angry And Sad And Lonely And Joyful And Excited And Afraid And Happy.

I Smile And Play Pretend Through The Morning Show In The Kitchen.

I Just Thought Of A Great Theory That Explains Everything. When I Went To That Party, I Was Abducted By Aliens. They Have Created A Fake Earth And Fake High School To Study Me And My Reactions. This Certainly Explains Cafeteria Food.

In One Aspect, Yes, I Believe In Ghosts, But We Create Them. We Haunt Ourselves.

Emma Is A Mattress Who Got Thrown Off The Truck When Her Parents Split Up. It's Not Like You Can Blame A Mattress When People Don't Tie It Down Tight Enough.

I Am A Gluttonous, Gorging Failure. A Waste. My Body Isn’t Used To High-sugar Carbs Laced With Witchcraft. It Can Barely Cope With Soup And Crackers.

I Needed To Hear The World But Didn't Want The World To Know I Was Listening.

Can't Escape Pain, Kiddo. Battle Through It And You Get Stronger.

Momma Said That Ghosts Couldn't Move Over Water. That's Why Africans Got Trapped In The Americas.. They Kept Moving Us Over The Water, Stealing Us Away From Our Ghosts And Ancestors, Who Cried Salty Rivers Into The Sand. That's Where Momma Was Now, Wailing At The Water's Edge, While Her Girls Were Pulled Out Of Sight Under White Sails That Cracked In The Wind.

You Must Walk Alone To Find Your Soul.

I Need A New Friend. I Need A Friend, Period. Not A True Friend, Nothing Close Or Share Clothes Or Sleepover Giggle Giggle Yak Yak. Just A Pseudo-friend, Disposable Friend. Friend As Accessory. Just So I Don't Feel Or Look So Stupid.

In One Aspect, Yes, I Believe In Ghosts, But We Create Them. We Haunt Ourselves.

We Swore Sacred Oaths To Be Strong And To Save The Planet And To Be Friends Forever.

Revision Means Throwing Out The Boring Crap And Making What’s Left Sound Natural.

Mr. Freeman Sighs. "no Imagination. What Are You Thirteen? Fourteen? You've Already Let Them Beat Your Creativity Out Of You!

I Just Thought Of A Great Theory That Explains Everything. When I Went To That Party, I Was Abducted By Aliens. They Have Created A Fake Earth And Fake High School To Study Me And My Reactions. This Certainly Explains Cafeteria Food.

There Is Nothing Wrong With Me. These Are Really Sick People, Sick That You Can See.

It Happened. There Is No Avoiding It, No Forgetting. No Running Away, Or Flying, Or Burying, Or Hiding.

I Sit At A Table Close To His Desk. Ivy Is In This Class. She Sits By The Door. I Keep Staring At Her, Trying To Make Her Look At Me. That Happens In Movies - People Can Feel It When Oother People Stare At Them And They Just Have To Turn Around And Say Something. Either Ivy Has A Great Force Field, Or My Lazer Vision Isn't Very Strong.

I Want To Tell Him That It's Just A Stupid Car, But Bits Of Me Are Scattered All Over Town; The Graveyard, School, Cassie's Room, The Motel, And Standing In From Of The Sink In My Mother's Kitchen. It Takes Too Much Energy To Gather All The Bits Together, So I Just Sit There And Watch Him Implode.

Who Cares What The Color Means? How Do You Know What He Meant To Say? I Mean, Did He Leave Another Book Called "symbolism In My Books?" If He Didn't, Then You Could Just Be Making All Of This Up. Does Anyone Really Think This Guy Sat Down And Stuck All Kinds Of Hidden Meanings Into His Story? It's Just A Story.... But I Think You Are Making All Of This Symbolism Stuff Up. I Don't Believe Any Of It.

I Like Cheeseburgers Too Much To Be A Model.

I Breathe In Slowly. Food Is Life. I Exhale, Take Another Breath. Food Is Life. And That's The Problem. When You're Alive, People Can Hurt You. It's Easier To Crawl Into A Bone Cage Or A Snowdrift Of Confusion. It's Easier To Lock Everybody Out. But It's A Lie.

The Stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking Didn't Make Her Skinny, It Made Her Cry.

Eating Disorder

Puke And Starve And Cut And Drink Because You Don't Want To Feel Any Of This. Puke And Starve And Cut And Drink Because You Need An Anesthetic And It Works. For Awhile. But Then The Anesthetic Turns Into Poison And By Then It's To Late Because You Are Maintaining It Now,straight Into Your Soul. It Is Rotting You And You Can't Stop.

So, She Tells Me, The Words Dribbling Out With The Cranberry Muffin Crumbs, Commas Dunked In Her Coffee.

I Doubt Trees Are Ever Told To 'be The Screwed-up Ninth-grader.'

I Look At My Homely Sketch. It Doesn't Need Anything. Even Through The River In My Eyes I Can See That. It Isn't Perfect And That Makes It Just Right.

I Am The Space Between My Thighs, Daylight Shining Through.

You’re Not Dead, But You’re Not Alive, Either. You’re A Wintergirl, Lia-lia, Caught In Between The Worlds. You’re A Ghost With A Beat- Ing Heart. Soon You’ll Cross The Border And Be With Me. I’m So Stoked. I Miss You Wicked.

They Mean Hot Like 'i'm Too Good For You I Got My Own Money Don't Be Frontin' Me.' You're More Like 'be My Boyfriend I'll Make You Cookies Come Meet My Dad ' Know What I Mean

Be Careful What You Wish For. There's Always A Catch.

You Have To Know What You Stand For, Not Just What You Stand Against.

I Am A Gluttonous, Gorging Failure. A Waste. My Body Isn’t Used To High-sugar Carbs Laced With Witchcraft. It Can Barely Cope With Soup And Crackers.

School Libraries Are The Foundations Of Our Culture – Not Luxuries.

I Inscribe Three Lines, Hush Hush Hush, Into My Skin. Ghosts Trickle Out.

Gym Should Be Illegal. It's Humiliating.

If I Ever Form A Clan, We'll Be The Anti-cheerleaders And Walk Under The Bleacher Forming Mild Acts Of Mayhem.

We're Good At Taking Care Of Little Kids, And Spend A Lot Of Energy Teaching Them Things Like How To Read. But When Kids Get As Tall As Their Parents And Can Look Them In The Eyes, We Tend To Drop The Ball - At A Time They Most Need A Loving Consistent Community Of Adults, Be It Parents, Aunts, Uncles, Or Others.

They Say They Have Noticed Me Drawing. I Almost Tell Them Right Then And There. They Noticed.

We're Good At Taking Care Of Little Kids, And Spend A Lot Of Energy Teaching Them Things Like How To Read. But When Kids Get As Tall As Their Parents And Can Look Them In The Eyes, We Tend To Drop The Ball - At A Time They Most Need A Loving Consistent Community Of Adults, Be It Parents, Aunts, Uncles, Or Others.

You Can Tell A Book Is Real When Your Heart Beats Faster. Real Books Make You Sweat. Cry, If No One Is Looking. Real Books Help You Make Sense Of Your Crazy Life. Real Books Tell It True, Don't Hold Back And Make You Stronger. But Most Of All, Real Books Give You Hope. Because It's Not Always Going To Be Like This And Books-the Good Ones, The Ones-show You How To Make It Better. Now.

Picasso.” He Whispers Like A Priest. “picasso. Who Saw The Truth. Who Painted The Truth, Molded It, Ripped From The Earth With Two Angry Hands.

I Handed My Tools. The Two Of Them Reached Down To Help Me Out Of The Crater I'd Dug. ''isn't That A Little Deep?'' Yoda Asked. ''it'll Help The Roots Get Established,'' I Explained. ''established Where? China?

I Nod Like I’m Listening,like We’re Communicating, And She Never Knows The Difference.

Because I Am Still A Little Girl Who Believes In Santa And The Tooth Fairy And You.

I Picked Up One Of The Books And Flipped Through It. Don't Get Me Wrong, I Like Reading. But Some Books Should Come With Warning Labels: Caution: Contains Characters And Plots Guaranteed To Induce Sleepiness. Do Not Attempt To Operate Heavy Machinery After Ingesting More Than One Chapter. Has Been Known To Cause Blindness, Seizures And A Terminal Loathing Of Literature. Should Only Be Taken Under The Supervision Of A Highly Trained English Teacher. Preferably One Who Grades On The Curve.

Hannah Was About To Burst With Excitement, Which Would Have Been Disgusting Because She Would Have Sprayed Blood, Guts And Glitter In Every Direction.

Dead Girl Walking” The Boys Say In The Halls. “tell Us Your Secrets” The Girls Whisper, One Toilet To Another. "i Am That Girl. I Am The Spaces Between My Thighs, Daylight Shinning Through. I Am The Bones They Want, Wired On A Porcelain Frame.

If I Run Or Breathe Too Deep, The Cheap Stitches Holding Me Together Will Snap, And All The Stickiness Inside Will Pour Out And Burn Through The Concrete.

Can't Escape Pain, Kiddo. Battle Through It And You Get Stronger.

I Decapitated Dandelions All Morning, Leaving Carnage And Death Strewn Into My Path.

I Want To Be In Fifth Grade Again. Now, That Is A Deep Dark Secret, Almost As Big As The Other One. Fifth Grade Was Easy -- Old Enough To Play Outside Without Mom, Too Young To Go Off The Block. The Perfect Leash Length.

Look At The Stupid, Poor People. Look At The Stupid, Poor, Burned-out People. Look At The Stupid, Poor, Burned-out People, Look At Their Dead Baby. It's Death Porn For The Masses.

Adrenaline Kicks You In When You’re Starving. That’s What Nobody Understands. Except For Being Hungry And Cold, Most Of The Time I Feel Like I Can Do Anything. It Gives Me Superhuman Powers Of Smell And Hearing. I Can See What People Are Thinking, Stay Two Steps Ahead Of Them. I Do Enough Homework To Stay Off The Radar. Every Night I Climb Thousands Of Steps Into The Sky To Make Me So Exhausted That When I Fall Into Bed, I Don’t Notice Cassie. Then Suddenly It’s Morning And I Leap On The Hamster Wheel And It Starts All Over Again.

She Cannot Chain My Soul. Yes, She Could Hurt Me. She'd Already Done So...i Would Bleed, Or Not. Scar, Or Not. Live, Or Not. But She Could Not Hurt My Soul, Not Unless I Gave It To Her.

What Do You Miss About Being Alive?" The Sound Of My Mom Singing, A Little Off-key. The Way My Dad Went To All My Swim Meets And I Could Hear His Whistle When My Head Was Underwater, Even If He Did Yell At Me Afterward For Not Trying Harder. I Miss Going To The Library. I Miss The Smell Of Clothes Fresh Out Of The Dryer. I Miss Diving Off The Highest Board And Nailing The Landing. I Miss Waffles" - P. 272.

Apologies Mean Nothing If You Don't Mean It.

I Am Almost A Real Girl The Entire Drive Home. I Went To A Diner. I Drank Hot Chocolate And Ate French Fries. Talked To A Guy For A While. Laughed A Couple Of Times. A Little Like Ice-skating For The First Time, Wobbly, But I Did It.

We Have To Acknowledge That Adolescence Is That Time Of Transition Where We Begin To Introduce To Children That Life Isn't Pretty, That There Are Difficult Things, There Are Hard Situations, It's Not Fair. Bad Things Happen To Good People.

I Can’t Tell Anymore When I’m Asleep And When I’m Awake, Or Which Is Worse.

Eating Was Hard. Breathing Was Hard. Living Was Hardest.

Sometimes Being An Adult Means Doing The Right Thing, Even If It's Not What You Want.

They Say They Have Noticed Me Drawing. I Almost Tell Them Right Then And There. They Noticed.

Cutting Pain Was A Different Flavor Of Hurt. It Made It Easier Not To Think About Having My Body And My Family And My Life Stolen, Made It Easier Not To Care... -wintergirls

I Pull My Lower Lip All The Way In Between My Teeth. If I Try Hard Enough, Maybe I Can Gobble My Whole Self This Way.... I Didn't Try Hard Enough To Swallow Myself.

Mr. Freeman: You Are Getting Better At This, But It's Not Good Enough. This Looks Like A Tree,but It Is An Average, Ordinary, Everyday, Boring Tree. Breathe Life Into It. Make It Bend - Trees Are Flexible, So They Don't Snap. Scar It, Give It A Twisted Branch - Perfect Trees Don't Exist. Nothing Is Perfect. Flaws Are Interesting. Be The Tree.

Some Adults Would Rather Pretend That Bad Things Dont Exist Than To Talk About Them.

I'm The Only One Sitting Alone, Under The Glowing Neon Sign Which Reads, "complete And Total Loser, Not Quite Sane. Stay Away. Do Not Feed.

Life Is For The Living. Don't Let The Fear Of Striking Out Let You From Keep You From Playing The Game.

I Was Good At Digging Holes. It Was The Rest Of Life I Sucked At.

Everybody Told Me To Be A Man. Nobody Told Me How.

Cutting Pain Was A Different Flavor Of Hurt. It Made It Easier Not To Think About Having My Body And My Family And My Life Stolen, Made It Easier Not To Care... -wintergirls

Censoring Books That Deal With Difficult, Adolescent Issues Does Not Protect Anybody. Quite The Opposite. It Leaves Kids In The Darkness And Makes Them Vulnerable. Censorship Is The Child Of Fear And The Father Of Ignorance. Our Children Cannot Afford To Have The Truth Of The World Withheld From Them

The Bathroom Door Swings Open. Emma Sees The Blood Painting My Skin And The Red Rivers Carved On My Body. Emma Sees The Wet Knife, Silver And Bone. The Screams Of My Little Sister Shatter Mirrors.

Life Is For The Living. Don't Let The Fear Of Striking Out Let You From Keep You From Playing The Game.

She Offered Herself To The Big, Bad Wolf And Didn't Scream When He Took The First Bite.

When People Don't Express Themselves, They Die One Piece At A Time.

I Would Never Be Popular. I Didn't Want To Be; I Liked Being Shy. I'd Never Be The Smartest Or The Hottest Or The Happiest. By Eighth Grade You Start To Figure Out Your Limits.

If I Had Lady-spider Legs, I Would Weave A Sky Where The Stars Lined Up. Matresses Would Be Tied Down Tight To Their Trucks, Bodies Would Never Crash Through Windshields. The Moon Would Rise Above The Wine-dark Sea And Give Babies Only To Maidens And Musicians Who Had Prayed Long And Hard. Lost Girls Wouldn't Need Compasses Or Maps. They Would Find Gingerbread Paths To Lead Them Out Of The Forest And Home Again. They Would Never Sleep In Silver Boxes With White Velvet Sheets, Not Until They Were Wrinkled-paper Grandmas And Ready For The Trip.

My First Class Is Biology. I Can't Find It And Get My First Demerit For Wandering The Hall. It Is 8:50 In The Morning. Only 699 Days And 7 Class Periods Until Graduation.

Art Without Emotion Its Like Chocolate Cake Without Sugar. It Makes You Gag.

I Want To Make A Memorial For Our Turkey. Never Has A Bird Been So Tortured To Provide Such A Lousy Dinner.

The Best Time To Talk To Ghosts Is Just Before The Sun Comes Up.

No, I Am Never Setting Foot In This House Again It Scares Me And Makes Me Sad And I Wish You Could Be A Mom Whose Eyes Worked But I Don't Think You Can.

This Camp Is A Forge For The Army; It's Testing Our Mettle. Instead Of Heat And Hammer, Our Trials Are Cold And Hunger. Question Is, What Are We Made Of?

Having To Parent Your Mother Or Father Is A Challenge That Way Too Many Teens Have To Deal With. Teens Whose Parents Are Dealing With Substance Abuse, Financial Hardship, Job Loss, Mental Illness And Divorce Deserve Our Love, Support, And Compassion. I Wish America Would Stop Judging And Criticizing Teens And Instead, Try To Understand The Battles They Have To Fight Every Day.

There's No Point In Asking Why, Even Though Everybody Will. I Know Why. The Harder Question Is "why Not?" I Can't Believe She Ran Out Of Answers Before I Did.

There Is No Magic Cure, No Making It All Go Away Forever. There Are Only Small Steps Upward; An Easier Day, An Unexpected Laugh, A Mirror That Doesn't Matter Anymore.

You’re Not Dead, But You’re Not Alive, Either. You’re A Wintergirl.

There Is Something About Christmas That Requires A Rug Rat. Little Kids Make Christmas Fun. I Wonder If Could Rent One For The Holidays. When I Was Tiny We Would By A Real Tree And Stay Up Late Drinking Hot Chocolate And Finding Just The Right Place For The Special Decorations. It Seems Like My Parents Gave Up The Magic When I Figured Out The Santa Lie. Maybe I Shouldn't Have Told Them I Knew Where The Presents Really Came From. It Broke Their Hearts.

I Scared Myself, Because Once You've Thought Long And Hard Enough About Doing Something That Is Colossally Stupid, You Feel Like You've Actually Done It, And Then You're Never Quite Sure What Your Limits Are.

They Tied Me Back Together, But They Didn't Use Double Knots. My Insides Are Draining Out Of The Fault Lines In My Skin, I Can Feel It, But Every Time I Check The Bandages, They're Dry.

I Swallowed The Fear. It’s Always There– Fear– And If You Don’t Stay On Top Of It, You’ll Drown. I Swallowed Again And Stood Tall, Shoulders Broad, Arms Loose. I Was Balanced, Ready To Move. My Body Said, “yeah, You’re Bigger And Stronger, But If You Touch This, I Will Hurt You.

Bologna Girl, That's Me.

Can The Plural Possessive Express The Feelings In Your Heart? If You Don't Learn Art Now, You Will Never Learn To Breathe!

Adrenaline Kicks You In When You’re Starving. That’s What Nobody Understands. Except For Being Hungry And Cold, Most Of The Time I Feel Like I Can Do Anything. It Gives Me Superhuman Powers Of Smell And Hearing. I Can See What People Are Thinking, Stay Two Steps Ahead Of Them. I Do Enough Homework To Stay Off The Radar. Every Night I Climb Thousands Of Steps Into The Sky To Make Me So Exhausted That When I Fall Into Bed, I Don’t Notice Cassie. Then Suddenly It’s Morning And I Leap On The Hamster Wheel And It Starts All Over Again.

Be Aggressive, Be-be Aggressive! B-e A-g-g-r-e-s-s-i-v-e

Having A Friend Made Everything Else Suck Less.

I'm Learning How To Taste Everything.

I Failed Eating, Failed Drinking, Failed Not Cutting Myself Into Shreds. Failed Friendship. Failed Sisterhood And Daughterhood. Failed Mirrors And Scales And Phone Calls. Good Thing I'm Stable.

It Is My First Morning Of High School. I Have Seven New Notebooks, A Skirt I Hate, And A Stomachache.

In One Universe, They Are Gorgeous, Straight-teethed, Long-legged, Wrapped In Designer Fashions, And Given Sports Cars On Their Sixteenth Birthdays. Teacher Smile At Them And Grade Them On The Curve. They Know The First Names Of The Staff. They Are The Pride Of The Trojans. Oops – I Mean Pride Of The Blue Devils. In Universe #2, They Throw Parties Wild Enough To Attract College Students. They Worship The Stink Of Eau De Jocque. They Rent Beach Houses In Cancún During Spring Break And Get Group-rate Abortions Before Prom.

It Is Easier Not To Say Anything. Shut Your Trap, Button Your Lip, Can It. All That Crap You Hear On Tv About Communication And Expressing Feelings Is A Lie. Nobody Really Wants To Hear What You Have To Say.

I Understood What Triggered Her Earthquakes, Most Of Them.

This Is Where You Can Find Your Soul If You Dare. Where You Can Touch That Part Of You That You've Never Dared Look At Before. Do Not Come Here And Ask Me To Show You How To Draw A Face. Ask Me To Help You Find The Wind.

A Breath Of Steam Trickles Out, Filled With The Sobs Of A Grown Woman Breaking Into Girl-sized Pieces.

Don't Expect To Make A Difference Unless You Speak Up For Yourself.

Making A Difference

I Knit The Afternoon Away. I Knit Reasons For Elijah To Come Back. I Knit Apologies For Emma. I Knit Angry Knots And Slipped Stitches For Every Mistake I Ever Made, And I Knit Wet, Swollen Stitches That Look Awful. I Knit The Sun Down.

Kids Are Mostly Very Resilient.

The Only Number That Would Ever Be Enough Is 0. Zero Pounds, Zero Life, Size Zero, Double-zero, Zero Point. Zero In Tennis Is Love. I Finally Get It.

Who Cares What The Color Means? How Do You Know What He Meant To Say? I Mean, Did He Leave Another Book Called "symbolism In My Books?" If He Didn't, Then You Could Just Be Making All Of This Up. Does Anyone Really Think This Guy Sat Down And Stuck All Kinds Of Hidden Meanings Into His Story? It's Just A Story.... But I Think You Are Making All Of This Symbolism Stuff Up. I Don't Believe Any Of It.

Why? You Want To Know Why? Step Into A Tanning Booth And Fry Yourself For Two Or Three Days. After Your Skin Bubbles And Peels Off, Roll In Coarse Salt, Then Pull On Long Underwear Woven From Spun Glass And Razor Wire. Over That Goes Your Regular Clothes, As Long As They Are Tight.

Cold And Silence. Nothing Quieter Than Snow. The Sky Screams To Deliver It, A Hundred Banshees Flying On The Edge Of The Blizzard. But Once The Snow Covers The Ground, It Hushes As Still As My Heart.

I Understood What Triggered Her Earthquakes, Most Of Them.

I Have Ten Bucks In My Pocket - What To Spend It On? French Fries - Ten Dollars' Worth Of French Fries, Ultimate Fantasy.

Emma Hears Me Come Up The Stairs And Asks Me To Watch A Movie With Her. I Stick Band-aids On My Weeping Cuts, Put On Pink Pajamas So We Match, And Snuggle With Her Under Her Rainbow Comforter. She Arranges All Of Her Stuffed Animals Around Us In A Circle, Everyone Facing The Tv, Then Presses Play...ghosts Dare Not Enter Here.

A Little Kid Asks My Dad Why That Man Is Chopping Down The Tree. Dad: He's Not Chopping It Down. He's Saving It. Those Branches Were Long Dead From Disease. All Plants Are Like That. By Cutting Off The Damage You Make It Possible For The Tree To Grow Again. You Watch - By The End Of Summer, This Tree Will Be The Strongest On The Block.

I Want To Go To Sleep And Not Wake Up, But I Don’t Want To Die.

I Am Locked Into The Mirror And There Is No Door Out.

I Am Super Proud Of Being An American, But We Fail Our Veterans Every Day.

I Need To Finish This Scarf/shawl/blanket Thing So I Can Start Something For Emma- A Hat, Maybe, Or A Sweater For Her Stuffed Elephant.

There Is Nothing Wrong With Me. These Are Really Sick People, Sick That You Can See.

I Can See Us, Living In The Woods, Her Wearing That A, Me With A S Maybe, S For Silent, S For Stupid, For Scared. S For Silly. For Shame.

Melancholy Held Me Hostage, And The Bees Built A Hive Of Sadness In My Soul.

Death Is Funny, When You Think About It. Everybody Does It, But Nobody Knows How, Exactly How.

He Says A Million Things Without Saying A Word. I Have Never Heard A More Eloquent Silence.

I Wish Adults Would Spend Less Energy Freaking Out About The Cutting Itself And Work Harder To Understand What Drives Kids To Self-harm.

Each Reader Has To Find Her Or His Own Message Within A Book.

It's Nathaniel Hawthorne Month In English. Poor Nathaniel. Does He Know What They've Done To Him? We're Reading The Scarlet Letter One Sentence At A Time, Tearing It Up And Chewing On Its Bones. It's All About Symbolism, Says Hairwoman. Every Word Chosen By Nathaniel, Every Comma, Every Paragraph Break -- These Were All Done On Purpose. To Get A Decent Grade In Her Class, We Have To Figure Out What He Was Really Trying To Say. Why Couldn't He Just Say What He Meant? Would They Pin Scarlet Letters On His Chest? B For Blunt, S For Straightforward?

He Says A Million Things Without Saying A Word. I Have Never Heard A More Eloquent Silence.

It Was Like Looking At A Knot, Knowing It Was A Knot, But Not Knowing How To Untie It. I Had No Map For This Life.

Some Adults Would Rather Pretend That Bad Things Dont Exist Than To Talk About Them.

Puke And Starve And Cut And Drink Because You Don't Want To Feel Any Of This. Puke And Starve And Cut And Drink Because You Need An Anesthetic And It Works. For Awhile. But Then The Anesthetic Turns Into Poison And By Then It's To Late Because You Are Maintaining It Now,straight Into Your Soul. It Is Rotting You And You Can't Stop.

We Turned Us Into Wintergirls, And When She Tried To Leave, I Pulled Her Back Into The Snow Because I Was Afraid To Be Alone.

Censorship Is The Child Of Fear And The Father Of Ignorance.

We Swore Sacred Oaths To Be Strong And To Save The Planet And To Be Friends Forever.

We've Fallen Down On Our Responsibility To Our Children By Somehow Creating This World Where They're Surrounded By Images Of Sexuality; And Yet, We As Adults Struggle To Talk To Kids Honestly About Sex, The Rules Of Dignity And Consent.

Sometimes Being An Adult Means Doing The Right Thing, Even If It's Not What You Want.

I Believe That You've Created A Metaphorical Universe In Which You Can Express Your Darkest Fears. In One Aspect, Yes, I Believe In Ghosts, But We Create Them. We Haunt Ourselves, And Sometimes We Do Such A Good Job, We Lose Track Of Reality.

If I Can Write A Book That Will Help The World Make A Little More Sense To A Teen, Then That's Why I Was Put On The Planet.

Conjugate This: I Cut Class, You Cut Class, He, She, It Cuts Class. We Cut Class, They Cut Class. We All Cut Class. I Cannot Say This In Spanish Because I Did Not Go To Spanish Today. Gracias A Dios. Hasta Luego.

My Parents Didn't Raise Me To Be Religious. The Closest We Come To Worship Is The Trinity Of Visa, Mastercard, And American Express. I Think The Merryweather Cheerleaders Confuse Me Because I Missed Out On Sunday School. It Has To Be A Miracle. There Is No Other Explanation. How Else Could They Sleep With The Football Team On Saturday Night And Be Reincarnated As Virginal Goddesses On Monday?

I Keep Thinking That If I Could Just Unzip My Skin, Step Out Of This Body, Then I Would See Who I Really Am.“ She Nods Her Head Slowly. „what Do You Think You‘d Look Like?” “smaller, For A Start.

I Know My Head Isn't Screwed On Straight. I Want To Leave, Transfer, Warp Myself To Another Galaxy. I Want To Confess Everything, Hand Over The Guilt And Mistake And Anger To Someone Else. There Is A Beast In My Gut, I Can Hear It Scraping Away At The Inside Of My Ribs. Even If I Dump The Memory, It Will Stay With Me, Staining Me. My Closest Is A Good Thing, A Quiet Place That Helps Me Hold These Thoughts Inside My Head Where No One Can Hear Them.

There's No Point In Asking Why, Even Though Everybody Will. I Know Why. The Harder Question Is "why Not?" I Can't Believe She Ran Out Of Answers Before I Did.

Write About The Emotions You Fear The Most.

Having A Friend Made Everything Else Suck Less.

You Can Tell A Book Is Real When Your Heart Beats Faster. Real Books Make You Sweat. Cry, If No One Is Looking. Real Books Help You Make Sense Of Your Crazy Life. Real Books Tell It True, Don't Hold Back And Make You Stronger. But Most Of All, Real Books Give You Hope. Because It's Not Always Going To Be Like This And Books-the Good Ones, The Ones-show You How To Make It Better. Now.

I Watch The Eruptions. Mount Dad, Long Dormant, Now Considered Armed And Dangerous. Mount Saint Mom, Oozing Lava, Spitting Flame. Warn The Villagers To Run Into The Sea.

When People Don't Express Themselves, They Die One Piece At A Time. You'd Be Shocked At How Many Adults Are Really Dead Inside—walking Through Their Days With No Idea Who They Are, Just Waiting For A Heart Attack Or Cancer Or A Mack Truck To Come Along And Finish The Job. It's The Saddest Thing I Know.

I Make It Through The First Two Weeks Of School Without A Nuclear Meltdown.

This Is Wonderful, Wonderful! Be The Bird. You Are The Bird. Sacrifice Yourself To Abandoned Family Values.

Why Not Spend That Time On Art: Painting, Sculpting, Charcoal, Pastel, Oils? Are Words Or Numbers More Important Than Images? Who Decides This? Does Algebra Move You To Tears? Can Plural Possessives Express The Feelings In Your Heart? If You Don't Learn Art Now, You Will Never Learn To Breathe!

I Know My Head Isn't Screwed On Straight. I Want To Leave, Transfer, Warp Myself To Another Galaxy. I Want To Confess Everything, Hand Over The Guilt And Mistake And Anger To Someone Else. There Is A Beast In My Gut, I Can Hear It Scraping Away At The Inside Of My Ribs. Even If I Dump The Memory, It Will Stay With Me, Staining Me. My Closest Is A Good Thing, A Quiet Place That Helps Me Hold These Thoughts Inside My Head Where No One Can Hear Them.

I Am Beginning To Measure Myself In Strength, Not Pounds. Sometimes In Smiles.

Picasso.” He Whispers Like A Priest. “picasso. Who Saw The Truth. Who Painted The Truth, Molded It, Ripped From The Earth With Two Angry Hands.

I Open A Paperclip And Scratch It Across The Inside Of My Left Wrist. Pitiful. If A Suicide Attempt Is A Cry For Help, Then What Is This. A Whimper, A Peep? I Draw Little Window Cracks Of Blood, Etching Line After Line Until It Stops Hurting.

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