Starving for a high, a place to hang out inside my own head. Starving for touch. Pain, even. A way to feel. I need to feel.

I wonder how long it would take him to realize I'm right as sin - it's the rest of the world that's wrong. I'm not even sure how I qualify for admission to Aspen Springs. Does wanting to die equal losing your mind?

I'm in love. And I like how that feels. And I hate how that feels. Because love is an invention of fiction writers.

And at some point I would like to talk my publisher into doing an anthology of my poetry alongside some teen readers poetry. It would be fun, and really wonderful to get their stuff out there.

Happily ever after is a concept I'll never believe in.

He did seem like a nice boy. Seeming and being are two different things.

Anger is a valid emotion. It's only bad when it takes control and makes you do things you don't want to do.