Your well-meaning words fall upon deaf ears. Meaning less than extra pennies in a machine that only takes quarters. I felt your good intentions as they rattled inside of me, neither catching for long or seeming to really matter. But your words were heard, I hear them still. I hear them as they desperately search for an exit, a place to finally matter. For they did not matter here within me. Instead I spit them out like the useless change they are. Extra pennies in a world of quarters.