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