Worth

Worth

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

You deface a dollar bill and you commit a crime.

Yet, at the end of the day, that bill will be fine.

You can cut, you can tear, you can break it down;

You can burn, you can crush, throw it to the ground...

yet that dollar bill is still worth all that it's worth.

Green and soft, stamped with the faces of History.

How it can go through so much and not degrade itself is still a mystery,

but that dollar is still worth all that it's worth.

You deface yourself and you commit a crime,

and unlike a dollar, you will not be fine.

You cut, you starve, you put yourself down;

You burn, you cry, you fall to the ground...

yet you are still worth all that you are worth.

Beautiful and bright, a part of History.

How you can't see it? To me, that is still a mystery,

but you are still worth all that you are worth.

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Smelling Like Smoke

Smelling Like Smoke

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

He,

smells like cigarettes and wasted dreams.

She, 

smells like a bonfire and a million regrets.

Both of them,

burning.

Two different outcomes.

Two different stories,

but they both smell like smoke when they get home.

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