I see my life being ripped apart at the seams. Beautiful fabric woven with gold and purple threads, laced with black and covered in shooting stars and smooth, smooth bones. I see my life being ripped apart at the seams. Fingers like spiders' legs working furiously and tearing apart. Thread strains, snaps, and curls backward. My Life Dress is unraveling. It is being pulled apart by its seams. I see my dress of sky and skin ripping apart. The holes gape open like dead mouths and moan at me. I see my dress of breakable things. It's not the way it used to be.
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