Now whenever I look at my long posts like that, I feel annoyance. I annoy myself. I get it. I'm so annoying. My posts annoy me. I'm annoyed.
I haven't posted a character themed poem in a while. I said I had many in mind. Things happened, and I didn't have any interest in posting them.
It's late December. My time is running out. I have to post everything before it's too late.
Instead of typing up another post like that last one, I'm going to kinda explain some major thing in story 2 through poetry.
That's what this is. The title of this post is the title of the poem. I've had this poem idea for quite a few weeks or months now.
"Kill The Name (He Died That Day)" - Fierdan/Danny themed poem for story 2.
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It's ironic, isn't it?
The young man is finally whole
Yet he still feels it within himself.
The emptiness,
The hollow shell.
They say he's human
But he says he's not.
He's not.
This can't possibly be considered
Being human.
Filling up the missing pieces
Doesn't mean the emptiness
Goes away for good.
Surrounded by white.
White walls,
White halls,
White ceilings,
But his feelings are still the darkest of blacks.
It's easy to pour white paint over something
But pouring white paint through is impossible.
White paint on a black heart won't give it color.
Bruised knuckles
Hot tears
Raw voice
Desperate words
The past,
The everything
It's nothing less than
A nightmare that seemed to
Never end.
Until now.
His name is from that past life
And it's haunting him.
It haunts the young man as the
Poltergeist of past horrors and perils.
And he knows more than anybody else
That past demons love to stay attached and
Refuse to leave for good.
-x-x-
No matter the name,
The past will continue to terrorize you.
You can't be in denial, dear boy.
You can't start to play pretend now
Just because you never had a proper childhood.
Demons have many different forms
But you will never escape them.
Fierdan is who you are.
You won't be able to escape that.
Break away from the past.
The past doesn't define who I am.
Today, in this moment, right now.
I'll continue to punch holes
In my bedroom walls
Even if that means
All my knuckles will bleed
And all my fingers will break.
I've became numb to
Witnessing and feeling
My body bleed and break.
Fierdan is from my old life.
I've came here to reclaim the life I should've had.
But it turns out that's impossible
It can't happen.
Fierdan was who I was
And I'm not inviting him into my new life.
"Fierdan has to die!"
I'll continue to scream
When I'm all alone and unable to stay asleep.
Don't think I'll stop
Because I won't.
I won't ever stop saying it
Until everyone in this damned place
Has heard and memorized every one of my words.
Every last one of them.
The past still has its grip on me.
Its touch is cold yet empty.
Just like how Soulless was with me
And they wanted to touch my body
With their sickening kindness.
In order for me to truly be free,
I have to delete myself from my past narrative.
Kill the name of Fierdan.
Fierdan also died that day.
I killed that name by coming here
Just like how Soulless died on that day.
The day the world ended.
If you really want to break away from your past,
Then you would only focus on healing
Instead of continuing to vent your feelings
Through damaging your own body.
Just because your inside is hurting
Doesn't mean your exterior has to visibly hurt.
Even if your physical pain is a quarter of your emotional pain.
Without Fierdan, who will you be?
You can't become a nobody.
Go on and reinvent yourself for the better
But what would throwing your name away do?
How will going nameless actually help you?
That isn't a real medicine,
It's only a placebo.
Fierdan died that day.
What don't you understand?
Why won't you get it?
I want that old part of me to
Go away and
Leave me alone.
Fierdan isn't who I am.
No, not anymore.
I'll reclaim my old name then.
I'll call myself Danny again.
Fierdan is dead.
Danny came back to life.
"Fierdan is dead!"
My past is dead to me.
Fierdan is another word for the past me.
And now it all died.
Fierdan isn't attached to me anymore.
Fierdan can't hurt me.
Because I killed him.
Unfortunately, the dead are just as vicious as the living.
The past may be dead, but it isn't resting peacefully in its grave.
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