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 smooth

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?