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it's not a big deal - maeve noiré lyrics

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“it’s not that big of a deal.”
“it’s not that big of a deal.”

you say it soft, like medicine
like i should swallow down the sting
like the cuts will close themselves
like my quiet’s just attention*seeking
you fold your hands, you roll your eyes
say my storms are small, minimized
you package pain in tidy lines —
“not that big,” then you sign the lies

and i keep counting all the times you said
told me to hush the noise inside my head
like i’m dramatic, like i’m weak
like my real is something you can tweak

“it’s not that big of a deal,” you say
as if my nights are easy to unlacе
you call my fire “minor” and move away
while i keep burning in thе same place
“it’s not that big of a deal,” you say again
and i want to know where your compassion went
is my pain a footnote in your pride?
is my life a headline you’ll let slide?
you pass those phrases like they’re gentle
but words like knives are still metal
every shrug a sentence heard
every “not that bad” another word
you keep measuring me with your scale
counting storms like they’re details
but the metric you use ain’t mine —
so watch me break that thin*lined spine

how many times do i catalogue hurt
only to hear your casual verdict?
like my collapse is an afterthought
a problem small enough to be bought

“it’s not that big of a deal,” you say
while i keep tallying what you erase
you minimize until my edges fray
and then act surprised at my face
“it’s not that big of a deal,” you repeat
like it’s fine if i muddle through the bleed
but if this is nothing in your eyes
then tell me straight — how much is a life?

“it’s not that big of a deal.”
(you keep saying it.)
“so it’s not a big deal,” — is that right?
“so it’s not a big deal if i hurt myself?”
“so it’s not a big deal if i stop waking up?”
is that what you call small? tell me that
you make my pain a trivia game
score it low, then look away
you want me quiet so your world stays neat
but what you call “small” is a murder on repeat
if my life’s a line on your list of things to grade
then by your logic, go ahead and aid
your apathy — keep counting me out
i’ll keep being loud until you feel the doubt

“it’s not that big of a deal,” you said
but i’m done pretending that i’m okay in bed
if nothing’s wrong, then why am i scared?
if nothing matters, why am i here?
“it’s not that big of a deal,” you cry
but you don’t have to face the reasons why
so answer me now—be honest, be real:
is my hurt “not a big deal”?

“it’s not that big of a deal.”
“it’s not that big of a deal.”

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