Sometimes I picture my thoughts like the coins in a piggy bank, and the only way to get them out is to bust my head wide open.

Once I do I find they are mostly pennies anyways, never really adding up to much.

Pennies, may not add up to much but when you have enough saved up over time it becomes much more.

Maybe I'll have enough pennies to make sense of old memories, and see them in a different light.

But my pennies are much to important to dwell on the bad stuff.

I'd rather spend them on thoughts like the newspapers we use to get back in highschool.

Remembering how we use to pass it along to eachother while reading the funny pages together.

Maybe I missed the part in the paper that read; I mattered, and I was loved by the rest of world, or maybe that's just a stupid thought.

Perhaps we are all stupidly lost in this world drowning in the riches of our own thoughts, but I still think it's better to save my pennies for a rainy day.

Missing you is hard, but I will always love the sound my brain makes when it gets busted open and spills out with pennies of you.

© Melissa G