The phantom limb

I cut you, I slice you,
I amputate you.

I desiccate, manipulate, rearrange.

I do everything I can
to get rid of you.

And I do.

But you are still a part of me.

I fight against. I refuse. I deny.

I lie, over and over again.

You are still a part of me.

Because you grow, you regenerate,
you are back again.

You were never gone.

I cut you, I slice you,
I amputate you.

Again, and again, and again.

But I still feel you,
cause you are still you,
and I am still me.

So we are still. Still.

I am alone, with a limb I do not want.

And I do.

Because you were never gone.