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May 2014
Could you paint me better off?
Clean my minds slate?
Pull my strings
Control my emotions
Will you seize my day into your own and furrow my brow?

You’re me
You should be able to
So why can’t I?

Would you nail in my loose screws?
Dig up my skeleton from the closet?
Pour my heart down the sink
Or break it over the counter
Will you count the suffocations tonight and pull the pillow from my face?

You’re me
You should be able to
So why can’t I?

Can you pull me from the crawlspace in my head?
Ground my thoughts into dust?
Pillage my safety
Leave me defenseless
Will you throw my disarray into the trash and dump me in the backyard?

You’re me
You should be able to
So why can’t I?

Dare you play with my conscience?
Sleep lonely on my spine?
Uncover my sarcophagus
Placate my pain
Will you befriend the dominions and wash away the stain?

You’re me
I’m you
So why can’t I do
What you can, too?
Mitchell S Bartlett
Written by
Mitchell S Bartlett  Camden, Maine
(Camden, Maine)   
316
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