Blinded Rage

when he raises his voice I watch his fists instead of listening to what he's saying not because I solely believe he'd ever hit me but because what if what if my fathers rage fills the gap between us what if his self control isn't enough what if history replays itself and all the false love all the agony I once felt the buckles and bruises swollen lips and blistered wrists reach out through his knuckles when he raises his voice I watch his fists instead of listening to what he's saying.