Band Aid

I thought intently of it.
Almost insanely intensely eating at me, driving me over a cliff.
I couldn't drink nor eat nor feel nor
know nor explain nor shatter tears.
In awe, dumbfounded down to the infinitesimal atomize particle.
The recalling to when your promises were a mouthful
Your smile a pouch of lies, sort of like when you
cheat a game and knowingly win.
The strings were so closely stitched.
The way it all occurred.... It was all gone in within seconds,
and pulled off the way a band-aid is ripped off after a few days.
I was nothing more than a band-aid.
I was only a remedy for the time being when
nothing else covered you nor protected you.
After it was all better, you ripped me off,
but not slowly nor with pity.
You ripped it all quickly and threw me away as if I
were an old ragged beat up used band aid.
Of which I was, and knew, but wasn't in any
means wanting to be reminded of.
Quickly you dropped me on the floor, and stepped on me
as you walked away, not slowly, not fast, but just walked away
I sat there bended and collapsed,
my soft side feeling the coldness of the cement.
As I became crusty, all of me was nothing more than a
forgotten blended and adjoined piece
forcefully accustomed to the coldness.
I still remember that one spring morning.
The lies you told, the allusions,
the falseness and most of all the way you looked at me.

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