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
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