Flinch

“Why do you flinch so much?”
They ask me, unknowing-
“I’m not going to hit you.”
But I guess the truth is showing
“Relax!”
They say, but they don’t understand
That underneath my flesh
Lies the impression of your hands
“I was beat as a child.”
I say with a laugh
But look into my eyes and you can see
The very act
“I’m not going to hit you…”
They tell me soothingly-
I used to hope the same of you
 - I was wrong, constantly
Cause every time you drank too much
Or work had made you mad
Some how, some way
I was ‘being bad’
And every time this happened
You would raise your hand-
And beat me for reasons I still don’t understand
I would try to hide away
Just to escape your wrath-
But no matter what I did or where I went
I would always cross your path
And now in everybody’s face and hands
I still fear the same
Afraid that I will anger them
And once again experience pain
“Why do you flinch so much?”
They ask me unknowing-
That upon my heart lies the scars
That I can’t keep from showing