Money

I always have just enough. For everything except medication. There’s always random things that inspire me. Telling me how great I am. Sunglasses in the mirror. That I might need, For my stash of accessories, For when I’m famous. But you don’t get famous by scurrying around. You don’t get anything by scurrying around. Except quarters if I’m lucky. But it’s usually rusty pennies. I save the coins. Until I get angry and throw them into the lake. I always have enough money, somehow. Which is how I’m not starving, somehow. And those meds- Just make me hungry anyway.