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.”