“I’ve never been with a boy who hasn’t seen me naked. It’s always the squeaky futon, bear-it-all, turn-off-the-lights quickstep. Don’t chalk it up to “daddy issues.” Maybe I’m sick of keeping private parts private. I don’t want rainwater secrets on my lips, tasting of “don’t make too much noise”. October’s dust in my lungs, maybe I don’t want bits of four AM lingering in my subconscious. Smokers breathe in fire, coat their insides in ash. Is that suicide or arson? Listen to me, listen to me. I’m alive. I’M ALIVE. I’m naked and bruised, but I’m alive. I’m not a piece of fruit. Don’t press into my flesh, looking for soft spots. My whole body is tender and rotten, but I’m alive. I’m alive and just because you can see it all, doesn’t mean you know it all” LovePastSexTrustAdventureDiscoveryFruitYoung AdultSexualityLustSelf DiscoveryNakedNonfictionNewSkinSelf ExplorationSixteenth NotesTaylor RhodesYoung Adult NonfictionAdult Nonfiction Book:Sixteenth Notes: the breaking of the rose-colored glasses Source: Sixteenth Notes: the breaking of the rose-colored glasses
“We are paint streaked runners, deafened by the cries of all the sad people. It's a powerful sound that practically yanks the tears right out of you. Sometimes, you just can't help but feel like a very small clam in a very big ocean.” FreedomYouthRevolutionDiscoverySelf DiscoveryMemoirInsignificantNewBorn AgainYouthfulnessSmallnessSelf ExplorationSixteenth NotesTaylor RhodesYoung Adult Nonfiction Book:Sixteenth Notes: the breaking of the rose-colored glasses Source: Sixteenth Notes: the breaking of the rose-colored glasses