White feels like the touch of a brand new wedding dress against the skin of a bride to be.
White feels like the wet cover of snow crippling the flowers underneath.
White feels like the sting of judgement from one skin color to another.
White feels like fragile bone, cracking and breaking.
White feels like the shine of the harsh light onto the sterile operating table.
White feels like the moment of desperation as your fingers slip and the pills scatter towards the sink.
White feels like the unfaltering stare of the empty porcelain plate saying, "you're not hungry."