Band-Aids

This one isn’t good anymore,
It’s worn out and no good for my sore.
We must separate,
You barely hang on unlike before…
Our parting should be immediate.

I tear you away quickly,
Almost violently.
Brief, the pain dissolved.
Though still sensitive and prickly,
The antidote for infection is solved.

Hurt again, may need stitches.
Pain sealed away like before… but still itches.
Healed, yet you leave holes when you’re out.
Gain from each one, submerge yourself in scratches.
All take a piece, that’s what we are about.