i used to ask myself

“What did i do to deserve this?”

Now i find myself asking

“What did i do not to deserve this?”

What ever gave me the idea that i

and i alone… should be above suffering?

for if i were above suffering, in this world

i would surely be alone; then my loneliness

would be my suffering.

Dreams are for those of time and leisure.

i am of neither, yet i still dream.

And because i dream (against the rules)

each dream i dream becomes a pin

that pricks me, yet draws no blood.

And i can not even say, “LOOK! Come see

the scars inflicted by my dreams.”