Too much sun after a Syracuse winter does strange things to your head, makes you feel strong, even if you aren't.

I was good at digging holes. It was the rest of life I sucked at.

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.

I am the space between my thighs, daylight shining through.

I wish America would stop judging and criticizing teens and instead, try to understand the battles they have to fight every day.

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

I am not going to think about it. It was ugly, but it’s over, and I’m not going to think about it.