I'm Learning How To Taste Everything.

I Stand In The Center Aisle Of The Auditorium, A Wounded Zebra In A National Geographic Special, Looking For Someone, Anyone To Sit Next To. A Predator Approaches: Gray Jock Buzz Cut, Whistle Around A Neck Thicker Than His Head. Probably A Social Studies Teacher, Hired To Coach A Blood Sport.

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

I Breathe In Slowly. Food Is Life. I Exhale, Take Another Breath. Food Is Life. And That's The Problem. When You're Alive, People Can Hurt You. It's Easier To Crawl Into A Bone Cage Or A Snowdrift Of Confusion. It's Easier To Lock Everybody Out. But It's A Lie.

Mr. Freeman Sighs. "no Imagination. What Are You Thirteen? Fourteen? You've Already Let Them Beat Your Creativity Out Of You!

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.