My self worth will pour out 

the cracks of the piggy bank

On the day I decide to steal the coins

from his pockets, from her purse,

from the coins hidden 

in the slits of paper I wrote.

I thought, they all cashed in 

A penny for love.

My self worth will come to me

when I put the cool coins on my skin and 

feel nothing.

The benign feeling of money 

against my flesh 

I’ll almost want to just throw the coins back

But I don’t.

I plop each one into the piggy bank

Hear the ping scratch the bottom of the bank

And once the last piece stacks itself a top 

it’s brothers and sisters,

I break open the pig 

And let its guts of currency pour out like a jackpot

There, there is a start.