You learned to name the symptoms Before you learned your own You learned to read the fractures Like they were carved in stone You kept your hands so steady While everybody bled But every time the mirror moved You turned your fucking head You measured every weakness You catalogued the pain You knew the right diagnosis For everybody in the frame You wore that little distance Like armor underneath Till somebody read you backwards And found the dirt beneath You like the body open As long as it isn't yours You like the truth in pieces As long as you hold the forceps You call it clinical distance Till the mirror says your name You call it observation Till you're standing in the frame Funny how the one who studies damage Still reacts exactly the same You can dissect everybody But you still bleed when they do the same You wanted clean hands While digging through the dirt Wanted every nerve exposed As long as yours never hurt You learned the language of restraint You learned the proper tone But underneath that careful voice You're just as fucking human You watched for every twitch Every pause between the words Every little contradiction Every instinct left unheard Then someone watched you watching And the whole room changed its shape You don't like being studied When there's nowhere left to escape You like the body open As long as it isn't yours You like the truth in pieces As long as you hold the forceps You call it clinical distance Till the mirror says your name You call it observation Till you're standing in the frame Funny how the one who studies damage Still reacts exactly the same You can dissect everybody But you still bleed when they do the same Strip the title Strip the chair Strip the measured little stare Strip the language Strip the role Strip the labels from the soul What are you when no one's listening What are you when no one's weak What are you when someone notices The thing you never meant to leak Don't hand me another diagnosis Don't hide behind your trained reply I watched the mask become a muscle I watched the muscle learn to lie You want control You want distance You want clean lines You want silence You want access Without exposure You want power Without disclosure You want to look You want to name You want to touch But never be touched the same I saw the hand behind the curtain I saw the hunger in the frame And when the mirror finally caught you You forgot your own damn name You call it clinical distance Till the mirror says your name You call it observation Till you're standing in the frame Funny how the one who studies damage Still reacts exactly the same You can dissect everybody But you still bleed when they do the same So keep your clean vocabulary Keep your practiced little face Keep explaining everybody From your safe and sterile place But somewhere underneath the title Under every polished claim There's a pulse you couldn't measure There's a nerve you couldn't name And when somebody finally finds it You can dress it up in shame But the one who studies damage Still reacts exactly the same You knew every little weakness Every fracture, every scar But the moment I could read you You forgot how smart you are Santi Flores
