dana baher

[danagotdrunkagain]

new game plan: lose some of this horrific weight

(another way of erasing myself physically/ emotionally)

[danagotdrunkagain]

[the fragments in which i exist and people see me continue to get smaller]

i felt so happy id laugh at miracles then dispose of my eye-saline-solution in bathrooms

i truly believe that people are all good at heart

[danagotdrunkagain]

they want to fuck me because they find me vaguely attractive but are repulsed by my perpetual…messiness issues

it’s hilarious because if i thought for a millisecond that or wasn’t just about the sex and they actually wanted to know about my issues messiness

then id fuck them forever at a chance of something other

(the only one standing in the way is you)

(don’t make it four for four)

(yeah but i just thought you were really hot i didn’t realise it offended your - hechucklesslightlythenstopsasihatehimmore - principles)

I recite these phrases: cursed nursery rhymes, for nights i have no intentions of sleeping

[danagotdrunkagain]

‘cut off your nose to spite your face’?

I BROKE MY FUCKING ARM into fragments on purpose to try and explain how that felt like shutting a door slightly too loud, where inside my head wear it was screaming (the doctor said it’s fine) feels like watching a castle crumble before exploding into flames

[danagotdrunkagain]

i literally feel so fucking alone and it doesn’t even really register until my hands are too shaky for me to hold the phone that collects pools of miniature sea salt silences falling down each cheek

(even they want to get away from me)

[danagotdrunkagain]

I regurgitate my past traumas as essays

[danagotdrunkagain]

1 kincraig street

That’s what hate feels to me or, at least, one of my plethora of hatred’s. They eat me alive: daily. Nightly.

I thought I had a lot to say but I don’t have all that much to say at alll. I’m anxious about all of the wrong things and complacent with the things which will bury me

I have always been a problematic girl but now my dreams screams new ways of wanting out. And therein it goes.

I have interactions with people. They might call them dates/friendships/meetings/screaming

My mind is convoluted but I knew I had to write I had to just. What? Die this sad fucked up prophetic prophecy. Throwing myself at a self fulfilling prophecy?

Maybe I’m so bitter because I missed my appointment.

It’s like for someone so defiant that my life has never really been my own

3 conversations 3 flatmates. All smiles and kindness 2 looking at what parts of me I have left that they could take.

3rd one really threw me off balance: the autist.

The boys circled in the garden [and it was raining but the rain was not hitting them hard enough]around a bin bag.

And here I was thinking I was the witch

It contained a laundry bag (expensive/sister/cornwall/missher/ which had been left by the laundry (I was waiting to use it I was waiting to use it I was waiting to use it) if you exist in threes, in 3’s I’ll chant back.

‘It was trash right? We all thought it smelt a bit’

The collective democracy and their narrative. Yes I had dragged myself out of a wine drenched hell and yes spilled wine smells bad (I was walking to wash it I was walking to wash it I was walking to wash it)

and they threw my prized possession like litter as I wished silently that the rain had hit them so hard they drowned

(even if the men were witches then why was i still burned?)

[danagotdrunkagain]

Gods, spirits and the stars

please don’t let my die on my sisters birthday

[danagotdrunkagain]

i hate how literally the only fucking person i can talk to I can’t truly talk to because it would upset them. I do I do ido!!!

but even when artistic license is invoked I cannot hurt more people by existing

[danagotdrunkagain]

its actually hilarious how fucked uo it is that I’m at the stage of making food i want to eat and then hiding it away from myself: the starving martyr (but she looks so big though!)

[danagotdrunkagain]

I wish I had a fucking laptop

after this series of crazies/crises ends maybe lll finally run away with

[danagotdrunkagain]

talking to you reflects touches of happiness

[danagotdrunkagain]

what a fucking dichotomy right?

i feel my heart break further at every second of solitude or silence, yet i can’t bring myself to exist with others

i was never really made for this world anyway

my happiness is so bright and shining it exhausts all of the air from rooms

then, my sadness bury’s me : in a muddy well.

no one comes to watch me drowning quietly / people chant and eat popcorn throwing parades as long as that sinking is entertaining

(my solitude eats away at my body, my skin and my insides)

i want to dance in night skies with strangers but as someone who has won’t can’t stop nights from ending

i have to wait until new mornings mean new mournings and the people who smiled at me bare their teeth: resentful

i am the broken glass bowl i smashed two years ago go and all of the pieces don’t fit together again

(i don’t know if they ever will)

[danagotdrunkagain]

I scream into the abyss, or what the fuck ever

Today matches the day I decided to kill myself (I etched it in my calendar 4 years ago go)

a while ago go at least I don’t seek peaceful realms I just want for to stare at me truly and say ‘fuck you’re as the last pill I’ve eaten makes ts hard for me to read and when I break my arm on purpose I was trying to be polite.

If it sounds convoluted it’s because the pills are working

[danagotdrunkagain]

it might just be the music (ifeelseenifeelheard) that i'm listening to, but I reckon I'm going to choose to be happy:

picture-paint a prescence that isn't a facade

i strive for (most of) my smiles to be more authentic

[danagotdrunkagain]

[i desperately hope to not be remembered in the stories relayed of me by others[

[danagotdrunkagain]

FUCK THIS

if i am indeed destined to die a hermit, they will drag me to hell knowing that I have tried.

i refuse this existence: my time-trapped-destiny will no longer be decided upon cards or the presumptions of others.

if this is my fate, i mock it.

i'll chant promises of better todays and tomorrows even as my house burns down to ash.

my past is no longer my prologue; I will rewrite my manuscript in blood if necessary

(I HAVE 5 YEARS OF MY LIFE THAT I AM TO RECLAIM)