Sprinkle Sprinkle Little Scar

Sprinkle, sprinkle, little scar
Does blood seep from broken hearts?
underneath lamplight I cry,
watching red beads slowly rise
from a seam upon my arm.

Sprinkle, sprinkle, little scar
when dad comes home from the bar—
stumbling through the door, he shouts,
“Come here, Claire, I’ll knock you out.”
Then my mother ducks behind
her little son, who will not hide,
wiping tears from swollen eyes.

Sprinkle, sprinkle, little scar
how I wish to travel far.
If I run, he’ll murder Mom.
He says our graves aren’t far apart.
Hands clenched tight, my eyelids sealed,
I pray that God may kill, kill, kill.

Sprinkle, sprinkle, little scar,
how you’ve grown and scabbed so dark…