Wanted to start this blog off with one of my favorite poems i wrote

Every touch leaves a scar. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter. Burned into my skin permanently, something i will never forget. But your touch, yours is, was, different. You touch was like a drug. It didn’t scar like everyone else’s. Yours faded fast, and i instantly wanted more. I didnt forget, but i became greedy. I remembered every touch, and after each one i wanted more and more. To me, you had the Mitus touch, but you turned me to gold. It wasnt until you were gone; when i knew that you were gone, that the gold that once felt so rich and luxurious, began to drag me down. I was infected with your golden touch, and now that it was gone, now that my addiction wasnt being fed, now it started to scar. Now i noticed the open wound that was left from every touch. And they werent scars, the were ugly, and soar, and new. Like you were. Now that you are gone, really gone, my wounds have healed. But every once n a while, that gold that you left behind holds me down and i remember what it felt like once again, to feel those scars.