I have a knack for remaining intact. Despite some bruised limbs, a bruised heart, and bruised ego, I’ve remained in one piece. Like you, I’ve traveled the world. From airplane to airplane, strange bed to strange bed… I too have been discarded and treasured and loved and hated. Like you I’ve fallen. I’ve fallen in love and I’ve fallen on my face. Like you, I've needed some help. Like you, I’ve learned to become my only constant and my only safe. You are the key to my past, and my fuel for the future. You inanimate object, you old piece of shit, you hanging by a wire technological waste. Like you, I have a knack for remaining intact.