if your hand offends you, cut it off
if you've got your leg in a snare, twist and pull until your limb lies as naked as a paw, until the skin pulls back like a cuff, until the bones let go of each other, until you have to turn and set your teeth on yourself, because the others will come bearing yoke and gun and beaks and keep you half-dead in a cage for eternity
(it should have been easy to cut off a phantom limb, but it held firm with a strength that my body has never known, diaphanous fingers clinging to what i walked past. i lowered the knife to rend the offending limb from my body but each cut drew blood in my mouth and i felt its barbed roots flex in my viscera. spitting horribly, i resigned to heal, slowly, while the wicked arm mended instantly and took up clawing the back of my neck at random)
(it should have been easy to cut off a phantom limb, but it held firm with a strength that my body has never known, diaphanous fingers clinging to what i walked past. i lowered the knife to rend the offending limb from my body but each cut drew blood in my mouth and i felt its barbed roots flex in my viscera. spitting horribly, i resigned to heal, slowly, while the wicked arm mended instantly and took up clawing the back of my neck at random)