I remember the days when the breeze rattled us and the sun shone down, we held on through everything. The days of beauty, with the world below us as we floated together, so far above it all.
But the sun hid away, and the breeze turned into a whirlwind.
And we fell.
We fell like the leaves in the fall after summer, then disintegrated into dust under winter's cold fingers.
Now I'm coming apart at the seams, My every insecurity showing, like the rips and tears of a favorite shirt destroyed by years of wear.
I feel as though my tattered threads and frail stitches are going to be the death of me, and I fear the ending.
I've come to the end of me, and now I can't see anything.
I'm missing you more than I can express, the part of me that is so far away.
I need to be sewn back together.
You'll be the thread to patch me back together.