Prey.

Okay, this one was kinda weird. I had to start it with the words "Truth is the mosquito bite..." Why? Oh who knows. Somethin about imagery or metaphors or somethin.
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Prey

Truth is the mosquito bite,

stinging and throbbing,

a mark of survival,

the thirst for blood.

Like a leper’s spot or a malignant mole,

the beast has marked her victim,

and disfigured its defenseless hide,

swiftly, without warning.

And now she has you,

consumed, burning, perpetually clawing

at the meager speck of a wound,

seeking relief from the prickling itch.

Though her dagger is a mere thistle,

and her power shrinks in a breath,

you are her prey,

now and always,

a sweet and hopeless carcass.