The Man Behind the Startle

You see me jump when the door slams hard, see my eyes move fast through the room and yard. You see my shoulders climb to my ears, but you don't see the twenty-three years. You see the pause before I reply, the far-off stare, the guarded eyes. You see the man who can't relax, but not the battlefield looking back. I don't mean to leave the moment, I don't mean to disappear. Sometimes a sound just finds the wound and pulls the old war near. I know I'm here. I know I'm safe. But some wounds remember What time can't erase. There's a man behind the startle. There's a story under skin. There's a soldier still returning From a place he's never been again. Don't judge the flinch too quickly. Don't shame what you can't see. There's a war behind the window, And a wounded man in me. You hear my voice get sharp sometimes, like thunder crossed a hidden line. You think it's anger standing there, but sometimes anger is just fear. You see me sit with my back to the wall, watching every exit, every call. You say, "You're safe," and I know it's true, but my body needs more time than you. The mind can read the calendar, the heart can know the place, but the body keeps a record no prayer can just erase. I am learning that healing isn't forgetting what happened, it's teaching a wounded body that it can finally stop fighting. I am not my reaction. I am not my fear. I am not the blast That brought the old day here. I am not the distance. I am not the stone. I am not the silence That made you feel alone. I'm a man still learning How to lower the shield, How to stand in the present And let old wounds heal. There's a man behind the startle. There's a life beyond the war. There's a heart still learning safety In a world worth living for. Don't judge the flinch too quickly. Don't shame what you can't see. There's a war behind the window, But there's still a man in me. So when I shake, just let me breathe. When I go quiet, stay near to me. Don't make my pain a courtroom case, don't turn my wound into disgrace. I'm still trying to come back whole, still asking mercy to reach my soul. Still walking home through memory, still fighting for the man in me. I may flinch when the night gets loud, may lose my way inside a crowd, but I'm not gone and I'm not less. I'm healing from what never left.