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