I breathe in slowly. Food is life. I exhale, take another breath. Food is life.

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 wish adults would spend less energy freaking out about the cutting itself and work harder to understand what drives kids to self-harm.

I make it through the first two weeks of school without a nuclear meltdown.

It's easier to floss with barbed wire than admit you like someone in middle school.

He says a million things without saying a word. I have never heard a more eloquent silence.

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.