i am a postage stamp
slapped onto the back of an envelope,
sealed tightly with a letter inside.
whether i want to be or not,
i am stuck onto this envelope,
and whether he wants me to be or not,
parting is seldom.
wherever we may go,
i am with him as he is with me.
there is beautiful concepts
compiled inside of him
things that are too astonishing
for my simple eyes to ever be graced with
the day will come where
those concepts will be removed
and i will be bound to what's left
and though it may be my desire to not be
i will be thrown away
useless, worthless
but as a nonessential, as i am wasted
into the garbage can,
i am still bound to you
(or what is left of)
sans the beautiful parts
i accept that
and though i am a postage stamp
i am in love with the envelope