Bind me tight. Breathing is only optional. The power of restriction, and the encasing of my fragile ribs like spider legs-one snap and Iwould die. I would wither away like an old leaf. I gasp for air and wince in pain. Pain is beauty. Few could see the poetic justice in the bone-white corset stained with red. Reaper, do you dare unlace me? I long to lose control for one moment behind closed doors. You won't tell a soul, right? I'm no proper lady.