My mother once told me I was talented
She encouraged me, and told me to fly
But yesterday night, she whispered to self, "the only thing my daughter is talented at is becoming a disappointment."

My knife
Once a gift
Now my tool
My blade
Once for protection
Now for relief
My razor
Once pristine
Now rugged
My knife
Once shiny
Now stained red on the edge

You were worried about
the storm, so you
invited it in,
wanting to control the
damage through your
kindness and friendship.
But you can't.
The storm doesn't have
a conscience.
It will never be a cute
pet on your leash.

There are bugs under my skin
tiny little crawling things
I can feel them there
itching with their tiny legs

It aches somewhere deep
their teeth biting at the flesh
muscle and bone torn
by little pincers too small to be seen

They're there underneath my skin
crawling and itching
under there until it aches
and I can't get rid of them

I can feel them crawling
underneath my skin
their little legs brushing my nerves
and biting into muscles

Worms and ants and pinchers
roaches and beetles
all the tiny little things
all inside me

There's an ache there
that I can never reach
no matter how deep I scratch
they're always there

Once I was a teacher
Teaching Robert Frost
This life is a Maze
Often I feel lost

Now I'm just a dad
Please, life, protect my 3
Snowfall in Seattle
In Dublin meant to be

                   Si.