Emma hears me come up the stairs and asks me to watch a movie with her. I stick Band-Aids on my weeping cuts, put on pink pajamas so we match, and snuggle with her under her rainbow comforter. She arranges all of her stuffed animals around us in a circle, everyone facing the TV, then presses play...Ghosts dare not enter here.

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

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

The dead do walk and haunt and crawl into your bed at night. Ghosts sneak into your head when you're not looking. Stars line up and volcanoes birth out bits of glass that foretell the future. Poison berries make girls stronger, but sometimes kill them. If you howl at the moon and swear on your blood, anything you desire will be yours. Be careful what you wish for. There's always a catch.

Nothing is perfect. Flaws are interesting. Be the tree.

Gossip is the foul smell from the Devil's backside.

I smile and play pretend through the Morning Show in the kitchen.