The lace is sandpaper on the back of my neck.
I scratch furiously until blood pools underneath my fingertips.
A zipper digs into the small of by back, ripping at my skin with every breath I take.
Just breathe
Inhale; exhale
the zipper is tearing at my flesh. I can’t breathe.
It feels like the zipper is going to reach through my back and tear my heart out.
She needs a little more blush
I wonder how I could possibly need more of anything.
My face played canvas all morning, sculpted, painted, bettered.
My mom bends down to reach me at eye level.
This is the most important day of your life
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
The lace is sandpaper on the back of my neck.
I scratch furiously until blood pools underneath my fingertips.
A zipper digs into the small of by back, ripping at my skin with every breath I take.
Just breathe
Inhale; exhale
the zipper is tearing at my flesh. I can’t breathe.
It feels like the zipper is going to reach through my back and tear my heart out.
She needs a little more blush
I wonder how I could possibly need more of anything.
My face played canvas all morning, sculpted, painted, bettered.
My mom bends down to reach me at eye level.
This is the most important day of your life
