Why? You want to know why?
Step into a tanning booth and fry yourself for 2 or 3 days. After
your skin buubles and peels off, roll is coarse salt, then pull
on long underwear woven from spun glass and razor wire. Over that
goes your regular clothes, as long as they are tight.
Smoke gunpowder and go to school to jump through hoops, sit up
and beg, and roll over on command. Listen to the whispers that
curl into your head at night, calling you ugly and fat and stupid
and b*tch and w*ore and worst of all "a
disappointment." Puke and starve and cut and drink because
you don't want to feel any of this. Puke and starve and cut
and drink because you need an anesthetic and it works. For a
while. But then the anesthetic turns into poison and by then
it's too late because you are maintaining it now, straight
into your soul. It is rotting you and you can't stop.
Look in a mirror and find a ghost. Hear every heartbeat scream
that everysinglething is wrong with you.
"Why" is the wrong question.
Ask "Why not?"
~Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson