Bite marks

I survived being bitten once,

subdued the poison without an antidote.

The wound ached, it itched, but I was strong.

And, there were tears, of course.

That poison was love.

Then, I grew.

Forgave myself for the carelessness and nonsense

that came at a price.

It took years to regain my heart.

The second time I saw the venomous creature,

I escaped just in time.

I pulled my leg away promptly,

so the fang barely scratched me.

Despite getting away, I got reminded

of the fight I fought the first time.

I took the challenge and walked the thin line

to get closer to it one more time.

Curiosity, eh?

It kills, they say.

So, a small dose still runs in my blood

as a warning sign that the poison can come

unexpectedly to my heart.