I’ve been waking up each morning missing a limb

I wish I could be more specific, but I can never predict the absent member

some days I reach out with a phantom for handshakes

some days I run on stumps

and others I roll out of bed like Mr. Potato Head


but I’ve been noticing crimson coated sickles with sticky hand holds

the exact shape of my fingerprints

sometimes I’ll see flashes of a sunken-eyed man, sharp smile grinning through the mirror

sometimes I’ll have the most tactile thoughts and intangible sensations

sometimes my brain coerces my heart to caress my sensitivities with serrated rationality

sometimes I believe it best to amputate my rawest parts


sometimes I just want to stop missing people


Photo by Nino Liverani on Unsplash

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