It’s a bad thing when you like pain,
because then you practice the art of incising your skin
in ways that leave paper thin cuts that only ever hurt
but never draw blood;
kind of wounds that only sting, but can never kill a thing.
It’s a good thing when you like pain,
because it’s the thread that runs through our everyday,
woven into our very grains.
Pain is that unbearably soft thing that holds
happiness’ frame of reference in place.
It’s a good thing to know,
on first-name basis,
it’s a good thing to get comfortable with;
as long as you stay kind to everyone else
and, in the eyes of the world, to yourself.