Swift Detachment

Off comes the Band-Aide
Ripped ever so ceremoniously
Tearing hair from flesh
In a swift yank
Now I’m left to sink
Or swim
Under my own power
My own devices
Fingers massage raw flesh
More pained now
Than the original wound
But soon it’ll return to normal
The scar will fade
As if nothing was wrong
Nothing was different
This is how it always been
And always will be
Until the next time

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