Homework Is Not An Option. My Bed

There Is No Magic Cure, No Making It All Go Away Forever. There Are Only Small Steps Upward; An Easier Day, An Unexpected Laugh, A Mirror That Doesn't Matter Anymore.

What Do You Miss About Being Alive?" The Sound Of My Mom Singing, A Little Off-key. The Way My Dad Went To All My Swim Meets And I Could Hear His Whistle When My Head Was Underwater, Even If He Did Yell At Me Afterward For Not Trying Harder. I Miss Going To The Library. I Miss The Smell Of Clothes Fresh Out Of The Dryer. I Miss Diving Off The Highest Board And Nailing The Landing. I Miss Waffles" - P. 272.

I Shake My Head. I Pick Up The Rake And Start Making The Dead-leaf Pile Neater. A Blister Pops And Stains The Rake Handle Like A Tear. Dad Nods And Walks To The Jeep, Keys Jangling In His Fingers. A Mockingbird Lands On A Low Oak Branch And Scolds Me. I Rake The Leaves Out Of My Throat. Me: "can You Buy Some Seeds? Flower Seeds?

I Wish Adults Would Spend Less Energy Freaking Out About The Cutting Itself And Work Harder To Understand What Drives Kids To Self-harm.

There's No Point In Asking Why, Even Though Everybody Will. I Know Why. The Harder Question Is "why Not?" I Can't Believe She Ran Out Of Answers Before I Did.