Hannah Baker’s poem:
Today I am wearing lacy black underwear
For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them
And underneath that I am absolutely naked
And I’ve got skin
Miles and miles of skin
I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts like Saran Wrap
That you can see through to what leftovers are inside from the night before
And despite what you might think
My skin is soft
And easily scarred
But that doesn’t matter, right?
You don’t care about how soft my skin is
You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark
But what if all they do is crack open windows
So I can see lightning through the clouds?
What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb
For a taste of fresher air?
Hannah Baker (from the tape): It happened after Valentine’s Day… when you really feel that lack of human contact. Especially when you make contact with the wrong human. That’s a whole new level of lonely. But through it all… you still want to believe there are good guys in the world. You were kind that night. You just sat there, letting me ignore you… until it was almost comical.
Hannah Baker (from the tape): You’re going to tell me this one’s no big deal… but let me tell you about being lonely. Humans are a social species. We rely on connections to survive. Even the most basic social interactions help keep us alive. Statistics prove the subjective feeling of loneliness can increase the likelihood of premature death by 26%. If it sounds like I’m quoting from a school textbook… I am. Too bad nobody bothered to read it. And let me tell you… there’s all kinds of ways to feel lonely.
Hannah Baker (to Courtney): I want to be your friend, Courtney. I have been a friend to you, and this thing you're scared for people to know about you doesn't matter to me. Okay, it doesn't f*cking matter. And I'm sorry if you're scared, but I'm not your shield, okay? You don't get to hide behind me. You don't get to f*ck with my life because you don't like who you are.
Olivia Baker: Sweetie, your friends are not going to like or dislike you for a car.
Hannah Baker: Mom, it's high school. Of course they will.
Olivia Baker: Listen, I was in high school.
Hannah Baker: Yeah, but you have no idea, because you were popular, I'm not.
(Olivia looks at her husband for help)
Andrew Baker (to Olivia): Well, you were.