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Three Feet Away
‘What happened?’ ‘I fell.’ ‘What do you mean you fell?’
‘I’ve hit the ground and I can’t get up.’ ‘How did you get
there?’ ‘You pushed me.’ ‘Oh. I’m sorry’ ‘Oh? That’s all
you have to say.’ ‘It’s not your fault.’ ‘I’m bleeding. Could
you bring me a Band-Aid?’ ‘No I can’t. That’s not my
place.’ ‘Could it be?’ ‘As of now? No. Maybe later.’ ‘But I
need the Band-Aid now or else I’ll bleed to death!’ ‘That’s
not my problem anymore.’ ‘How can you be so shallow,
this is your entire fault! I was fine until you threw me to the
ground. Now I just sit here dying.’ ‘I’ve noticed.’ ‘Liar. If I
hadn’t said anything, you would have just walked by
without even seeing me on the ground.’ ‘Well I was on my
way to get myself a Band-Aid. I’m sorry.’ ‘What happened
to the one I gave you?’ ‘It wouldn’t stick.’ ‘Oh. Who were
you going to get one from?’ ‘I think you know…Look your
cut is starting to heal.’ ‘Is it? Oh wow you’re right. Maybe
things aren’t as bad as I thought they were. So will I see
you tomorrow?’ ‘Probably not.’ ‘Can I call you tomorrow?’
‘No. Please don’t. I have to go.’ ‘Wait! Hello? Hello!
Come back I’m bleeding again!’
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In terms of the actual meaning, my friend once referred to relationships as being "like a band-aid, comforting until you rip it off." Those words rang true to me, and I decided to base my poem off that theme.