smoke left behind

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a siren's call swept through the swelling wind. how it is to know you still remember what that sounds like. 3 years cracking and aging the past, wonder why it didn't last.

characters become you in more ways than one. and sometimes it feels like their stories can't continue to run. still, the mind-slot i made for them was designed for them, and them alone. having it sit bare leaves me emptied and un-whole, i fear i've wandered somewhere else.

if you could revive something you once held dear, would you take that chance. i believe i would. i believe i would, somehow.

Maybe some people seem better on their own... but they're not.

Identity [Gerard Way] *Completed*Where stories live. Discover now