Joan of Arc Speaks

Electric lights run up the streets tonight. I left a flower on your grave, meaningless. I try to save these small moments of ceremony. Processions and order appeal to me but I’d savor chaos at least to get a taste of your mouth soundtracked with fumbling keys. Your tongue felt like stinging bees. So set this stoplight on fire! Throw on the orphans, whores and liars! Pull up a chair – no wait, throw it in. Cleanse yourself with fresh ash and sin. And we’ll hopscotch on yellow lines, pavement lining crying eyes. Well, the fire reached your neighbor’s house. Tell your parents to get out and leave the only copies of the pictures of the ones you loved to burn.

Sirens ring, looking for me.

A martyr never felt so free.

Isn’t this how you wanted me?

All black eyes and skinned knees,

A martyr never felt so free.

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~ by perfectionatrix on November 11, 2008.

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