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.
Hannah was about to burst with excitement, which would have been disgusting because she would have sprayed blood, guts and glitter in every direction.
I smile and play pretend through the Morning Show in the kitchen.
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 stuff my mouth with old fabric and scream until there are no sounds left under my skin.
You must walk alone to find your soul.
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.
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.
I like cheeseburgers too much to be a model.
The trick to surviving an interrogation is patience. Don’t offer up anything. Don’t explain. Answer the question and only the question that is asked so you don’t accidentally put your head in a noose.
Melancholy held me hostage, and the bees built a hive of sadness in my soul.
Don’t expect to make a difference unless you speak up for yourself.
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.
The one good thing about being kind of shy is that nobody bugs you when you want to be left alone.
I don’t say anything and I feel awful. I tell somebody and I feel worse. I’m having trouble finding a middle ground.
There is nothing wrong with me. These are really sick people, sick that you can see.
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.
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.
They yell at me because I can’t see what they see. Nobody can explain to me why my eyes work different than theirs.
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.