The bad

I let him touch me. I didn’t know him much It was the first time I had ever felt that kind of touch And it still haunts me now Though I never thought it would I don’t blame the wandering hands I don’t think I ever could For, someone hurt him too They touched him with the bad And it shrunk and shriveled before finding me sad The bad which reaches out and crawls and spreads A black mold in humid dread It made me hurt some other soul Who never asked for much It made me want to take and take and touch bask in the regret Then spend the rest of my life Running to forget