They say I look like you. All sparkling stars and dark, dark sky. Those mischievous eyes twinkling with intelligence and filled to the brim with many secrets. Some secrets were told under patched roofs and tent flaps- the kind of secrets only told once in a lifetime. Others were told under nothing but an inquisitive gaze, digging deep within your soul and luring you into pouring out a cacophony of dripping doubts and slimy jealousies.

They say I look like you. All tanned skin and freckles like the constellations in your ever-expanding vastness. Freckles that dot my nose and cheeks but stopping right before reaching my forehead, which is covered with stray wisps of chestnut wind.

They say I look like you. Colorful and free, with arms bound in starlit chains but a heart full wildness and untold beauty. Stranded and placed there by chance, like Orion forever lifting his bow or how the Little Dipper is always smaller than the Big Dipper.

They say I'm the Little Dipper.

Those words that wriggle their way out of their gasping mouths tell me that I am unique. Special. Original. Like you.