You don’t know me but I play you in the mirror.
And every photograph you don’t like.
I’m also your voice on recordings,
when you don’t like the sound of your own voice.
I look like you but
I’m a little bit bigger
and I move a little slower
It takes me longer to think of the clever thing to say
when everyone is saying clever things.
I look dumber than you.
My hands are clumsy and so are my feet.
For every imperfection you have,
I have two more.
Nothing of yours fits me.
I’m only telling you all this because
you look at me
and seem to think
- even with all these differences.
You still look at me
when you think we’re alone
and you cry.
Because you think you’re me.
But I’d never cry if you didn’t.
Because you’re not me.
Because we couldn’t be more different if we tried.