skull and crossbones

Don’t touch, says irritant

Don’t drink, says poisonous

Don’t sniff, says deadly

You are like a bottle of bleach,

I’m the child that gets curious.

Grasping the child- lock cap with my chubby hands,

Clamping my mouth over the bottle neck, leaving frustrated teeth dents.

If I get in, you are likely to spill, burn me, and no doubt scar me for life.

I haven’t been poisoned yet but I’m close,

It’s hard to keep away; there is something mysterious and familiar about the bottle,

I see it at least 3x a week and I still haven’t got in.