You and I.

Sat there in a room with you. Your secrets long ago were brought to light. I hold my secrets though- deep inside- and yours resinate with mine. I wonder if the only difference between us is that I didn't carry around a .22 that ended up putting five bullets in someone's torso. Sure I'm not as extreme. Don't they say humans are humans more or less though? You never intended to kill a man but you did and you've got blood on your hands. I've never killed a man but my anger corrodes from the inside and spills out. Just makes me wonder what I would of done if when I was angry I'd had a gun. But there's where the difference is- I know better than to put a gun in my hands. Maybe you and I are made from the same stuff. But what we choose is what makes us different enough. The power to choose is the power to write a new story- not the one people keep telling us. The power to choose is the only thing that can not be taken away from us. Choices make us or they break us. There’s no way around it. We are the sum total of our choices.