She cannot chain my soul. Yes, she could hurt me. She'd already done so...I would bleed, or not. Scar, or not. Live, or not. But she could not hurt my soul, not unless I gave it to her.

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.

I just want to sleep. A coma would be nice. Or amnesia. Anything, just to get rid of this, these thoughts, whispers in my mind. Did he rape my head, too?

It doesn't hurt. Nothing hurts except the small smiles and blushes that flash across the room like tiny sparrows.

It made me strong.I took a step back, near my whole self in the mirror.I pushed back my shoulders and raised my chin, my back straight as an arrow.

A breath of steam trickles out, filled with the sobs of a grown woman breaking into girl-sized pieces.

Why are you being so mean?" "Friends tell friends the truth." "yeah, but not to hurt, to help.