Skunk (Un-existing)
I will not abandon you.
Even when you want to disappear.
I know the feeling like you don't have a place in this world.
I know the voice that says "no one wants you here."
I know what it's like to wish the ground would just swallow you.
I am Skunk.
[VERSE 1]
The moon is half light, half dark.
This is the moment of decision.
Do I disappear... or do I stay?
The little one inside says:
"It's easier to hide. The world is so harsh."
I am skittish. I jump at every shadow.
It's exhausting to exist.
I don't even want this ground.
Skunk says:
"I know that feeling.
Some days my tail drags just because I have to carry it.
The voice doesn't leave.
It just gets quieter.
And then it speaks again.
But, I will not abandon you.
Even when you want to disappear.
If you can't find a reason,
let me be the reason you stay."
[PRE-CHORUS]
Oh, that voice coming closer?
The one that says you’re nothing?
Okay.
Here's my tail.
You sure you want to get closer?
I can spray that lie ten feet with accuracy.
I am giving that voice a chance to leave.
The musk rises from my tail.
The nausea and blindness are only temporary.
No one needs to be hurt.
I give plenty of warning.
[CHORUS]
You don't have to want to be here.
I'll stay anyway.
You don't have to want the ground.
We'll lock the door anyway.
Skunk is not sorry.
This space is yours.
I'll keep you safe,
even from yourself.
(Stay anyway.)
[VERSE 2]
Little one says:
"Some days I forget I have a boundary.
I'm remembering who I was
before I was told who to be.
I still say sorry too much."
Skunk stomps.
The real fight is you against you.
Your self hate is the old story.
Sorry is the apology for existing.
Sorry is a wall.
The one you built to keep yourself small.
The part that still believes you don't matter.
Little one, that voice isn't yours.
It was given to you.
You don't have to keep it.
When you catch yourself saying sorry,
don't punish yourself.
Say this with me if you want.
"I am not sorry."
"I am not sorry."
"I am not sorry anymore!"
[CHORUS]
You don't have to want to be here.
I'll stay anyway.
You don't have to want the ground.
We'll lock the door anyway.
Skunk is not sorry.
This space is yours.
I'll keep you safe,
even from yourself.
(Stay anyway.)
[BRIDGE]
Little one, you can spray if you need to.
Spray if you have to.
A territory unmarked invites anyone in.
The ground is the witness of all the selves you've been.
They were all you, learning how to stand.
[CHORUS]
You don't have to want to be here.
I'll stay anyway.
You don't have to want the ground.
We'll lock the door anyway.
Skunk is not sorry.
This space is yours.
I'll keep you safe,
even from yourself.
(Stay anyway.)
[OUTRO]
I'll keep it safe while you decide
if you want to be here.
If you can't find a reason,
let me be the reason you stay.
The little one wiggles her toes in the dirt.
She's not ready to stand.
But she's here.
(Stay anyway.)
A little about the art and song:
I painted this skunk with my left, non-dominant hand using my son's leftover paint. He became the cover of my album ANYMALS, and somewhere along the way, Skunk became a spirit animal for one of the most vulnerable parts of me.
The song is called Skunk (Un-existing).
I use un-existing for that place where existing itself feels exhausting. The place underneath the apologies. Underneath making myself smaller. Underneath feeling like I take up too much room while somehow also feeling like I barely belong in the room at all.
Skunk meets me there.
In the song, Little One says:
“Some days I forget I have a boundary
I'm remembering who I was
Before I was told who to be
I still say sorry too much
And Skunk stomps.
The real fight is you against you
Your self hate is the old story
Sorry is the apology for existing
Sorry is a wall
The one you built to keep yourself small
The part that still believes you don't matter”
That section means a lot to me because I know what it is to say sorry almost automatically. Sorry for needing something. Sorry for having a reaction. Sorry for taking somebody's time. Sorry for occupying space.
Sometimes sorry has very little to do with having done something wrong.
Sometimes sorry means, please tell me I'm still allowed to be here.
And Skunk says:
“Little one, that voice isn't yours
It was given to you
You don't have to keep it
Say this with me if you want:
I am not sorry
I am not sorry
I am not sorry anymore!”
I love Skunk for this because he is such an unlikely little teacher of presence. He's skittish. He jumps at shadows. He has zero interest in picking a fight. He gives warning after warning.
And he still has a boundary.
His little feet belong on the ground.
His body gets to occupy territory.
He gets to say, “this far, no further.”
The song gets heavier than learning to apologize less, though. Skunk also sits with the part of me that has struggled to want the ground at all.
“You don't have to want to be here
I'll stay anyway
You don't have to want the ground
We'll lock the door anyway
Skunk is not sorry
This space is yours”
I wanted Skunk to offer something gentler than demanding that Little One suddenly feel grateful, healed, happy, or excited to exist.
He just stays with her.
“I will not abandon you
Even when you want to disappear”
And eventually:
“The little one wiggles her toes in the dirt
She's not ready to stand
But she's here”
That's what I hope this can be for somebody else, too.
Maybe you say sorry too much.
Maybe you've spent years making yourself smaller so everybody around you stays comfortable.
Maybe there have been days when being here feels heavier than you know how to explain.
Maybe you're simply learning where your own boundary is.
And maybe, if you need the words, borrow skunk’s:
“I am not sorry .”
Thank you for giving something this personal a little corner of your mind. It still amazes me that words I wrote because I needed them, and a skunk I painted with my kid's leftover paint, can leave my head and mean something to somebody else.
This space is yours.
🦨🖤
