The Best Time To Talk To Ghosts

I Inscribe Three Lines, Hush Hush Hush, Into My Skin. Ghosts Trickle Out.

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

I Know My Head Isn't Screwed On Straight. I Want To Leave, Transfer, Warp Myself To Another Galaxy. I Want To Confess Everything, Hand Over The Guilt And Mistake And Anger To Someone Else. There Is A Beast In My Gut, I Can Hear It Scraping Away At The Inside Of My Ribs. Even If I Dump The Memory, It Will Stay With Me, Staining Me. My Closest Is A Good Thing, A Quiet Place That Helps Me Hold These Thoughts Inside My Head Where No One Can Hear Them.

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.

I Would Never Be Popular. I Didn't Want To Be; I Liked Being Shy. I'd Never Be The Smartest Or The Hottest Or The Happiest. By Eighth Grade You Start To Figure Out Your Limits.