I don't own anything.
This voice isn't mine.
This mind isn't mine.
My words, my thoughts, my actions, my face, my hair, my clothes, my books, my art; they aren't mine because they're all yours -- just yours.
I simply borrowed them all.
But I don't intend on returning them to you.
Because without you,
I would own nothing.
I would be nothing.
I would be poor, and hollow, and blank, and bland, and absolutely no one at all.
And that's far worse than being someone I'm not.