You're nothing 
but a ***** flea to me -
Biting my ankles,
And gnawing at my feet
You refuse my pleas to cease
They itch -
Oh so uncomfortably
I scratch until they bleed 

The bites are gone now,
But my skin -
Uneven, blotched in tone -
Bear scars of memories
Long since past
And so I cover them fast
Lest I dwell on the contrast 

They make my tattoos
Look a little ugly sometimes 
Maybe I'll just cover them 
With more art -
Turn something stark
Into something lark

How about all bite,
AND all bark?