Live My Life

If you slept in my bed, in my body next to the man I sleep next to between the blankets that I do and swallowed the same pills that I do, with the same water and brewed and woke up with the same coffee that I do would you live my life exactly the way that I do? No. Because you’re you. You do you, because you’ve done no one but you. You’ve manipulated people the way that you do, you’ve had the catch in your throat that you do, the string in your step, that strand of hair that falls in your face and one way that you always reach for things that is like no one else.

Even if you were forced to wear what I wear, use the soap that I do, everything it wouldn’t be quite me. Nor could I ever be quite you, even though I am in fact you.

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