Love, Poetry, Writing

Phantom Limb. A poem.

I’m forever haunted
by this

phantom limb,

writhing in my sleep,
guilt stricken for my
sins.

I see you in every couple
on the street, and at the
coffee shop,
where we drank each other in.

It feels like you’re still
across from me;
the conversation,
imagined and forlorn,
accusing
eyes that follow me
no more.

Your ghost absorbs my
days and nights,
a peripheral blur,
just out of
sight.

Time
heals all wounds;
such perfect sense,
but not in my
experience.

You’re the limb I lost, that still
persists.

A phantom limb,
my will insists.

16 thoughts on “Phantom Limb. A poem.”

  3. This poem really resonated with me because my father is an amputee and has a phantom limb. I enjoyed the surprising turn this poem took and how the words wind up speaking both to love lost and lost flesh. Powerful.
    I thought I’d share a funny story about my dad’s leg with you. A friend who had children invited him to stay the night. Early in the morning the kids snuck into the room and saw his still-clothed artificial leg lying by the bed. They were thoroughly impressed he could take his leg off and spent hours trying to figure out how he’d done it and take their own legs off!

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  8. Currently dealing with a situation that this deeply connected me to. It’s been hard just keeping up on social media tabs cause I tend to be reminded of certain things all too quickly. It’s no different walking around in everyday life. I really loved this, feeling better knowing I’m not alone. Great poem, Steve

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