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?
