“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...”

“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.”

“Homework is not an option. My bed is sending out serious nap rays. I can't help myself. The fluffy pillows and warm comforter are more powerful than I am. I have no choice but to snuggle under the covers.”

“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 am learning how to be angry and sad and lonely and joyful and excited and afraid and happy.”

“i was raped, toosexually assaulted in seventh grade,tenth grade. the summer after graduation,at a partyi was 16i was 14i was 5 and he did it for three yearsi loved himi didn't even know himhe was my best friend's brother,my grandfather, father, mommy's boyfriend, my date, my cousin, my coachi met him for the first time that night and-4 guys took turns, and-i'm a boy and this happened to me, and-...i got pregnant i gave up my daughter for adoption... did it happen to you, too?”

“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?”