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Written and performed by Henri Igna of Words Anonymous at Conspiracy Garden Cafe during Support.
Don't Punish 2016: A night of honest conversations about drugs, without fear or judgment—bringing together musicians, poets, and people with stories to share, in a space that's safe, judgment-free, and fun!
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Henri Igna: http://www.iarthenri.com/
Words Anonymous: https://www.facebook.com/WordsAnonymous/
A friend asked me before if I was sad, and I said "yes"
Because for me, sadness is simple.
Sadness is waking up 10 minutes before your alarm clock sets.
Sadness is pending buffet dates but all you have are empty pockets
Sadness is Chicken Joy, no available thigh part, are you willing to wait
Sadness is the awkward silence at the dinner table because they said I gained weight
And I couldn't say anything because I was busy holding my breath to prove them they were wrong
But when someone asked me if I was lonely, I said "no, I'm not lonely"
And I've always wondered what the difference of loneliness and sadness is.
And I realized they're almost just the same.
Except that loneliness is that weird kind of sadness that doesn't hurt as much
But it pokes you every now and then to remind you it still exists.
And I feel it, existing, breathing, trying to claw itself out of my chest with its calloused fingers at 2 in the morning
When everyone else's fast asleep and the silence makes it easier to hear all the whispers, and I swore,
I never wanted any of this.
I never wanted to drown in all of my paper cut loneliness.
So I've tried.
God knows I've tried, writing all of it down on paper
But the margin scribbles drew a picture of a time when I could have been better
I erased them when I was sober
I've tried, taming my own monsters
Hid them under the bed when I go out with my friends for dinner
And I go home, discover that /they/ have grown a few inches longer
I have tried eating more than I can handle, to make me forget all my hollows empty
But I can never satisfy their hunger
For self-pity at every glance at the mirror.
For hours locked up inside the room.
For tears reluctantly shed whenever I hear this song over the radio.
Call this a rodeo, my fake-smile lasso trying to capture all my broken before they get loose.
I don't want to lose control.
Or maybe I do.
Maybe, the only thing I wanted is to stay out of the dark
To keep the silence at bay
To hush all the voices that try to reach at my throat
So I tried rattling every nail in my body with these
My friends gave me these, no, these are my friends
I want you to meet them:
Cocaine, crystal meth, mary jane, big O, cadillac express
And oh, they make me feel so beautiful
I no longer hear the voices except for my own laughter echoing from all my empty
I'm on top of the world, this is my penthouse
I am happy, a few minutes before this
I am happy, two hours ago
I am happy, last night
And it starts to go down, down, the elevator's going down
T-minus zero seconds, crash!
Welcome to the ground floor, you are back from the start
The crash has always been the worst part
The wreckage I find myself in every morning after
But there aren't any lovers, only I
Woke up, back at the beginning
When every waking hour is an attempt to escape my linen coffin
As if the whole world looms before you
They said applying pressure can stop the bleeding
So I tried hugging my pillows tight at night to keep the wounds from opening
But these, these paper cuts on my fragile being, they never bled, but it doesn't make them easier to ignore
I've always wondered what the difference of loneliness and sadness is
And I realized, they're almost just the same
Except that loneliness is that weird kind of sadness that doesn't hurt as much so we tend to ignore it
But the moment it does hurt, it's too late to notice it
Unless someone else does
Last night, my mom asked me if I was lonely
And I said "maybe"
Maybe, her question is the only thing I needed to keep me from breaking
Mom, I promise, I won't stop trying