RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

Marcy · **02-08-2016, 06:39 PM**

THE BLACK SHROUD

Time waits for no one, so do you wanna waste some time?

My voice sounds strange without the aether -- naked and empty and vulnerable, like there is no line to guide it against, no hand to hold through the waves of melody. It reminds me of how many notches are still in my throat, one for every day I wasted singing things that did not belong to me, one for every new face I put on. Every note has to climb over them, like a flimsy staircase, and Iâ€™m afraid of misstepping with every new scratch.

Itâ€™s going to be different this time,

how many times have I lied to myself like this already?

Time. Thatâ€™s what I need, I need time, I need to rewind and rework and rewrite, and I need all those days that seeped from my fingers, I donâ€™t care how many beaches I will have to comb. One day at a time -- his hair in my hands still feels like a warm, living luxury, and I donâ€™t want to stain it with dirt.

Second chances are never free.

I canâ€™t sleep in the Shroud. The trees are too full of voices.

XX.XXX.XXXX

This, too, shall pass [Journal]

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes