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

There is nothing wrong with me. These are really sick people, sick that you can see.

I stuff my mouth with old fabric and scream until there are no sounds left under my skin.

They say they have noticed me drawing. I almost tell them right then and there. They noticed.

I can see us, living in the woods, her wearing that A, me with a S maybe, S for silent, S for stupid, for scared. S for silly. For shame.

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

Cutting pain was a different flavor of hurt. It made it easier not to think about having my body and my family and my life stolen, made it easier not to care... -Wintergirls