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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.

-Laurie Halse Anderson

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I Want To Be

Laurie Halse Anderson

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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.

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You Were Born With The Seeds Of Your Talent, The Ability To Observe The World Around You And Weave Piece Of It Into A Story. I Believe That Most -- If Not All -- People Are Born With These Seeds. What Separates The Writers From The Non-writers Is That The Writers Actually Sit Down And, You Know... Write.

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.

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

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.

I Wonder How Long It Would Take For Anyone To Notice If I Just Stopped Talking.

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.

Grandma Frowned And Yelled Something In Russian. She Could Have Been Saying, 'open Up, Your Best Friend Is Here.' On The Other Hand, It Could Have Been, 'america Is A Great Country Because Of Canned Ravioli.

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

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

I Wonder How Long It Would Take For Anyone To Notice If I Just Stopped Talking.

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.

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

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

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

Grandma Frowned And Yelled Something In Russian. She Could Have Been Saying, 'open Up, Your Best Friend Is Here.' On The Other Hand, It Could Have Been, 'america Is A Great Country Because Of Canned Ravioli.

I Pushed My Ragged Mouth Against The Mirror. A Thousand Crushed Bleeding Lips Pushed Back At Me.

I Am Angry That I Starved My Brain And That I Sat Shivering In My Bed At Night Instead Of Dancing Or Reading Poetry Or Eating Ice Cream Or Kissing A Boy.

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 Light Beyond My Eyes Flashflashflashes With A Hundred Futures For Me. Doctor. Ship's Captain. Forest Ranger. Librarian. Beloved Of That Man Or That Women Or Those Children Or Those People Who Voted For Me Or Who Painted My Picture. Poet. Acrobat. Engineer. Friend. Guardian. Avenging Whirlwind. A Million Futures--not All Pretty, Not All Long, But All Of Them Mine. I Do Have A Choice" - P. 271

I Live In The Borderlands. The Word Ghost Sounds Like Memory. The Word Therapy Means Exorcism. My Visions Echo And Multiplymultiply. I Don't Know How To Figure Out What They Mean. I Can't Tell Where They Start Or If They Will End. But I Know This. If They Shrink My Head Any More, Or Float Me Away On An Ocean Of Pills, I Will Never Return.

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.

I Knew It!" He Pumps A Fist Into The Air. "you've Fallen In Love With Me. You Want To Have My Babies. We'll Get A Team Of Horses And A Covered Wagon And We'll Journey To South America And Raise Goats.

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.

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.

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?

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

I Wish America Would Stop Judging And Criticizing Teens And Instead, Try To Understand The Battles They Have To Fight Every Day.

A Scar Is A Sign Of Strength. . .the Sign Of A Survivor.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

I Like Cheeseburgers Too Much To Be A Model.

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?

I Wanted To Pull Down A Book, Open It Proper, And Gobble Up Page After Page

Gossip Is The Foul Smell From The Devil's Backside.

She Looks Like A China Doll, Observed Grandfather As We Departed. I Will Break Just As Easily, I Muttered.

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

I Won The Wintergirl Trip Over The Border Into Dangerland.

I'm Learning How To Taste Everything.

My Face Becomes A Picasso Sketch, My Body Slicing Into Pieces.

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

Oppressive Bastards, Think They Own The Place. I Told Them That Karma's Going To Kick Their Asses.

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.

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

They Yell At Me Because I Can't See What They See. Nobody Can Explain To Me Why My Eyes Work Different Than Theirs.

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

Eating Disorder

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.

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.

I Knew How Much It Hurt To Be The Daughter Of People Who Can't See You, Not Even If You Are Standing In Front Of Them Stomping Your Feet.

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

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

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

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

Making A Difference

I Am Getting Better At Smiling When People Expect It.

Write About The Emotions You Fear The Most.

I Live In The Borderlands. The Word Ghost Sounds Like Memory. The Word Therapy Means Exorcism. My Visions Echo And Multiplymultiply. I Don't Know How To Figure Out What They Mean. I Can't Tell Where They Start Or If They Will End. But I Know This. If They Shrink My Head Any More, Or Float Me Away On An Ocean Of Pills, I Will Never Return.

Do They Choose To Be So Dense? Were They Born That Way? I Have No Friends. I Have Nothing. I Say Nothing. I Am Nothing.

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.

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

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.

Why Are You Being So Mean?" "friends Tell Friends The Truth." "yeah, But Not To Hurt, To Help.

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 Wish America Would Stop Judging And Criticizing Teens And Instead, Try To Understand The Battles They Have To Fight Every Day.

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

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

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

The One Good Thing About Being Kind Of Shy Is That Nobody Bugs You When You Want To Be Left Alone.

There Is No Safer. There’s Not Even Safe, Never Has Been.

I Shake My Head. I Pick Up The Rake And Start Making The Dead-leaf Pile Neater. A Blister Pops And Stains The Rake Handle Like A Tear. Dad Nods And Walks To The Jeep, Keys Jangling In His Fingers. A Mockingbird Lands On A Low Oak Branch And Scolds Me. I Rake The Leaves Out Of My Throat. Me: "can You Buy Some Seeds? Flower Seeds?

I Stuff My Mouth With Old Fabric And Scream Until There Are No Sounds Left Under My Skin.

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

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 Won The Wintergirl Trip Over The Border Into Dangerland.

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.

It Made Me Strong.i Took A Step Back, Near My Whole Self In The Mirror.i Pushed Back My Shoulders And Raised My Chin, My Back Straight As An Arrow.

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 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.

Apologies Mean Nothing If You Don't Mean It.

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.

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

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

What Do I Want? The Answer To That Question Does Not Exist.

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

Memory Cuts Both Ways; It Can Either Provide You With Tremendous Strength And A Foundation To Carry You Through Your Life, Or It Can Be A Demon That Just Ruins Your Present And Your Future Because You Can’t Let Go Of The Past.

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

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.

Nothing Is Perfect. Flaws Are Interesting. Be The Tree.

Eating Plain Toast Will Detonate Her. "i'll Have Some Honey." When The Bread Is Done I Scrape On A Microscopic Layer Of It And Pour A Cup Of Coffee, Black. She Pretends Not To Listen Or Watch As I Crunch Through My Breakfast. I Pretend That I Don't Notice Her Pretending.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

Didn't Help To Ponder Things That Were Forever Gone. It Only Made A Body Restless And Fill Up With Bees, All Wanting To Sting Something.

Who Wants To Recover? It Took Me Years To Get That Tiny. I Wasn't Sick; I Was Strong.

I Watch Some Kids Ask The Cafeteria Ladies To Sign Their Books. What Do They Write: "hope Your Chicken Patties Never Bleed?" Or, Maybe, "may Your Jell-o Always Wiggle?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Here Stands A Girl Clutching A Knife. There Is Grease On The Stove, Blood In The Air, And Angry Words Piled In The Corners. We Are Trained Not To See It, Not To See Any Of It. . . . Someone Just Ripped Off My Eyelids.

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

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.

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

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

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 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.

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.

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 Understood What Triggered Her Earthquakes, Most Of Them.

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

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

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.

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

I Breathe In Slowly. Food Is Life. I Exhale, Take Another Breath. Food Is Life.

It's Easier To Floss With Barbed Wire Than Admit You Like Someone In Middle School.

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.

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 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.

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

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

Having A Friend Made Everything Else Suck Less.

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.

I'm Learning How To Taste Everything.

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 Cry To Let Everything Out

She Looks Like A China Doll, Observed Grandfather As We Departed. I Will Break Just As Easily, I Muttered.

And Then A New Screen, One I Had Never Seen Before, Never Even Heard Of Popped Up. It Gave Me A Choice. I Could Become The New Lord Of Darkness Myself, Or I Could Take A Gamble And Be Reincarnated. I Chose Wisely.

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

I See A Girl Caught In The Remains Of A Holiday Gone Bad, With Her Flesh Picked Off Day After Day As The Carcass Dries Out. The Knife And Fork Are Abviously Middle-class Sensibilities. The Palm Tree Is A Nice Touch. A Broken Dream,perhaps? Plastic Honeymoon, Deserted Island? Oh, If You Put In A Slice Of Pumpkin Pie, It Could Be A Desserted Island! (pg 64)

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.

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.

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

My English Teacher Has No Face. She Has Uncombed Stringy Hair That Droops On Her Shoulders. The Hair Is Black From Her Part To Her Ears And Then Neon Orange To The Frizzy Ends. I Can't Decide If She Had Pissed Off Her Hairdresser Or Is Morphing Into A Monarch Butterfly. I Call Her Hairwoman.

What Do I Want? The Answer To That Question Does Not Exist.

She Turns To Us, Acts Surprised To See Us, Then Does The Bit With The Back Of The Hand To The Forehead. "you're Lost!" "you're Angry!" "you're In The Wrong School!" "you're In The Wrong Country!" "you're On The Wrong Planet!

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

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

I Wanted To Pull Down A Book, Open It Proper, And Gobble Up Page After Page

Did You Read Last Nights Assignments?" Say "yes'" And Get Hammered Again. Say "no'" And The Same Thing Would Happen.

I Have Never Heard A More Eloquent Silence.

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

I Have Never Heard A More Eloquent Silence.

I Want To Go To Sleep And Not Wake Up, But I Don't Want To Die. I Want To Eat Like A Normal Person Eats, But I Need To See My Bones Or I Will Hate Myself Even More And I Might Cut My Heart Out Or Take Every Pill That Was Ever Made.

I Stuff My Mouth With Old Fabric And Scream Until There Are No Sounds Left Under My Skin.

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.

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

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

I Knew How Much It Hurt To Be The Daughter Of People Who Can't See You, Not Even If You Are Standing In Front Of Them Stomping Your Feet.

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

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

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.

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.

It's A Shame We Can't Just Admit That We Failed Family Living, Sell The House, Split Up The Money, And Get On With Our Lives.

This Is Not Our Fight', The Old Man Said. 'british Or American, That Is Not The Choice. You Must Choose Your Own Side, Find Your Road Through The Valley Of Darkness That Will Lead You To The River Jordan. . . Look Hard For Your River Jordan, My Child. You'll Find It.

I Don't Say Anything And I Feel Awful. I Tell Somebody And I Feel Worse. I'm Having Trouble Finding A Middle Ground.

Kids Are Mostly Very Resilient.

Who Wants To Recover? It Took Me Years To Get That Tiny. I Wasn't Sick; I Was Strong.

Lawyers On Tv Always Tell Their Clients Not To Say Anything. The Cops Say That Thing: 'anything You Say Will Be Used Against You.' Self-incrimination. I Looked It Up. Three-point Vocab Word. So Why Does Everyone Makes Such A Big Hairy Deal About Me Not Talking? Maybe I Don't Want To Incriminate Myself. Maybe I Don't Like The Sound Of My Voice. Maybe I Don't Have Anything To Say.

Having A Friend Made Everything Else Suck Less.

Nicole Can Do Anything That Involves A Ball And Whistle.

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.

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

Did You Read Last Nights Assignments?" Say "yes'" And Get Hammered Again. Say "no'" And The Same Thing Would Happen.

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.

Oppressive Bastards, Think They Own The Place. I Told Them That Karma's Going To Kick Their Asses.

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?

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 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.

Used To Be That My Whole Body Was My Canvas-hot Cuts Licking My Ribs, Ladder Rungs Climbing My Arms, Thick Milkweed Stalks Shooting Up My Thighs.

The Constitution Does Not Recognize Different Classes Of Citizenship Based On Time Spent Living In The Country. I Am A Citizen, With The Same Rights As Your Son, Or You. As A Citizen, And As A Student, I Am Protesting The Tone Of This Lesson As Racist, Intolerant, And Xenophobic.

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

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.

I Wish I Had Cancer. I Will Burn In Hell For That, But It's True.

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.

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.

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.

For One Moment We Are Not Failed Tests And Broken Condoms And Cheating On Essays; We Are Crayons And Lunch Boxes And Swinging So High Our Sneakers Punch Holes In The Clouds.

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

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.

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

To Keep Up Appearances, I Stomp My Room And Slam The Door.

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

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.

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.

It Made Me Strong.i Took A Step Back, Near My Whole Self In The Mirror.i Pushed Back My Shoulders And Raised My Chin, My Back Straight As An Arrow.

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

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.

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?

We Held Hands When We Walked Down The Gingerbread Path Into The Forest, Blood Dripping From Our Fingers. We Danced With Witches And Kissed Monsters. We Turned Us Into Wintergirls, When She Tried To Leave, I Pulled Her Back Into The Snow Because I Was Afraid To Be Alone.

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