My arm still reaches for you, Though it’s long been gone. The nerve remembers faster than thought It sparks, it lies, it begs. You’re not here, But my hand keeps moving. Phantom pain, The body insists, the heart complies. No scar, no sign, Just the ache rehearsing its lines. Doctors call it misfire, I call it... you. Reminiscence trapped in muscle, An impulse refusing peace. There is no mercy in forgetting. Each night, it twitches back to life A pulse misplaced, A memory pretending to heal. You’re not here, But my hand keeps moving. Phantom pain, The body insists, the heart complies. No scar, no sign, Just the ache rehearsing its lines. Going nowhere, My hand catches air. Phantom pain, The missing learns to speak. Even silence has its scream, And I still answer it. It moves again, Though nothing’s left to move.
