Are You Ready?


One the count of three, ready?

One. Two. Three. 

As the band aid rips off the pain comes back.

Not as intense as the initial pain,

that caused there to be the placement of the band aid to begin with, 

A subtle pain. 

The kind of pain that just makes you remember the times spent together.

The times spent underneath bedsheets exchanging kisses.

But thats what the band aids for. 

To heal the pain. To try and forget the times spent together.

The times when you would run your fingertips along my legs giving me goosebumps. 

And just like that, one the count of three, it’s gone. 

Everything, all of it. 

Pull the bandaid off and you’ll see that the cuts have healed

And soon the scars will fade too.



Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741