Rough Gem

You're
The nub
That remains
After the leg
Has been forcefully
Amputated. You feel
The ghost of your former self
Twitch sometimes, stretching to move,
But there's nothing really there.
You can't stand. You can't hold
Yourself up when you
Begin to fall.
You're injured.
You're a
Wound.

poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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