Braces the Fox - Second Floor, End of the Hall

Yeah… They sent me up again. Like that’s gonna fix anything. Second floor, end of the hall, Door cracked open like he knows it all, Say my name like we’re old friends— I just shrug and play pretend. Hat pulled low, don’t meet his eyes, Count the cracks in ceiling tiles, He says, “You don’t have to talk”— Yeah, right. That’s why I walked. Coffee cup, same old stain, Smells like something more than caffeine… Hey, Mr. Silva, don’t start that, “I get it” — yeah, I’ve heard that, You sit there like you’ve seen it all— But you don’t say what made you fall. Hey, Mr. Silva, what’s your deal? You talk like everything can heal, You say I’ll make it out somehow— Guess you’re still tryin’ to, right now. He don’t flinch at half my shit, Guess he’s heard worse, I’ll give him it, Writes things down, then looks at me— Like he’s checkin’ what I’ll be. Says my name like it’s worth savin’, Like I ain’t already cave-in’, I roll my eyes, but I stay put— Hate that I don’t hate him much. He don’t talk about his past, But you can tell it wasn’t clean… Hey, Mr. Silva, don’t start that, “I get it” — yeah, I’ve heard that, You sit there like you’ve seen it all— But you don’t say what made you fall. Hey, Mr. Silva, what’s your deal? You talk like everything can heal, You say I’ll make it out somehow— Guess you’re still tryin’ to, right now. He says, “You don’t have to carry it alone,” But he says it like he never made it home, Hands still shake when he thinks I don’t see— Guess some ghosts don’t leave easy. Clock ticks loud, he checks his wrist, Like there’s somewhere he should’ve been instead of this, Then he leans in, voice stays low— “Stay with me… don’t let go.” “Have you read The Lord of the Rings?” “…no.” “…you’d like it.” I’ve seen him tired, seen him late, Same damn cup, same damn face, Says “you matter” like it’s true— Like he’s tryna hear it too. I get up, say I’m done, He just nods like he won’t run, “Same time next week?” he says— Like I ain’t already a mess. Hey, Mr. Silva, don’t start that, “I get it” — yeah, I’ve heard that, You sit there like you’ve seen it all— Maybe you did, and that’s your fault. Hey, Mr. Silva, what’s your deal? You talk like everything can heal, You say I’ll make it out somehow— Guess you’re still tryin’ to, right now. Second floor, I walk away, Didn’t say what I meant to say, But for a second, I almost did— …guess that’s somethin’, isn’t it.