I am not who you think that I am. I am not the stories that you tell. I am not the pictures in your head or the memories that you hold. I am not your hopes and dreams. I am not my heritage or my skin color or my name. I am not your image of me.
I am the books that you burn because they offend you. I am the refugees that you scorn. I am the water that you poison and the spiders that you crush. I am the child that you hit and the grandmother that you neglect. I am the homeless man that you ignore. I am the cattle that you slaughter. I am the tears that fall and the blood that runs red.
I am the newborn baby that you cradle. I am the lover in your bed. I am the apple tree and the rose. I am maple syrup. I am the wind in the trees and the birds that sing and the crickets that cackle. I am children laughing.
I am pink sunrise and red sunset. I am pain and triumph. I am sadness and joy. I am tiny and insignificant and my living has changed your world. I am everything and I am nothing. I am here today, gone tomorrow and lost yesterday. I am eternal. I am you. You are me and I am not what you think I am.