My band-aids are wet
gone the protection and safety
the box lays empty on the floor
that didn’t last long.
band-aids don’t patch gunshots
I tried to be strong for you
but my shield already falters
I hope that I don’t drive you away
press your foot on the pedal
and lock the door
your eyes trace my silhouette
and for once,
it’s just like my fantasies
I’ll buy a cast.
Let my wounds scab
and heal
I have a feeling
once I’m in your arms
I’ll have no need for
band-aids
Nov 6, 2025
Nov 6, 2025 at 10:43 AM UTC
My band-aids are wet
gone the protection and safety
the box lays empty on the floor
that didn’t last long.
band-aids don’t patch gunshots
I tried to be strong for you
but my shield already falters
I hope that I don’t drive you away
press your foot on the pedal
and lock the door
your eyes trace my silhouette
and for once,
it’s just like my fantasies
I’ll buy a cast.
Let my wounds scab
and heal
I have a feeling
once I’m in your arms
I’ll have no need for
band-aids
Request permission to use this poem