I am almost a real girl the entire drive home. I went to a diner. I drank hot chocolate and ate french fries. Talked to a guy for a while. Laughed a couple of times. A little like ice-skating for the first time, wobbly, but I did it.

I wanted to pull down a book, open it proper, and gobble up page after page

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

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

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.

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 knew how much it hurt to be the daughter of people who can't see you, not even if you are standing in front of them stomping your feet.