I Am Not Unique

What makes me unique?

I chose a purple shirt when I could have chosen pink.

Is that special? Does that make me extraordinary?

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What makes me unique?

I have brown eyes and brown hair but

if you look closely,

there is a speck of golden honey in them.

Is that enough?

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What makes me unique?

I have red and blue scars on my hands and arms,

earned from protecting someone that I love.

Is that brave? Does that make me worth remembering?

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What makes me unique?

My skin is pale white and riddled with acne,

and when it basks in the sun,

it burns before fading to brown.

Is that different?

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What makes me unique?

I have been told that I look like cousins,

ex-lovers and old friends,

so I suppose that I have been done before.

I am not so new.

I am not so particular.

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I am not, really,

in the grand scheme of things,

unique.

There will always be another

who chooses purple over pink,

who has honey in their gaze,

who protects someone they love,

who burns before tanning,

who reminds you of someone,

and that’s alright.

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I quite like the company.