A viper can choose, consciously,

how much venom to release

with each encounter, as if

he knows which birthdays to forget

and which biting remark

will leave you calling me at hours i’d never believed

or crying in the kitchen,

choking for air that he took

when he struck hard and fast

and maybe this time, just once,

the mark was small,

barely breaking the pale skin

you’ve started to wear so tightly,

his teeth hardly sunk in enough

to leave a bloodstain on your blouse

but maybe next time,

when his anger boils to the surface,

and it’s too late to become uncoiled from him

he’ll find a bit more venom to bite with

and maybe next time,

another tyler will leave you

with more than just hurt feelings.