Extremity

Arms,
like a tree's ungainly limbs that
branch out from my body, and
I hate how they fall to my side,
useless, because I know not what to do with them as I
walk through the crowd and try to hide my
discomfort where you cannot see it, but
you always seem to know, and
that's why I despise myself so much; because
what's the use of having arms
if they always will be empty