"Here"

[lungsofliquid]

 Oh, Joan of Arc had her God,
but you’ve got the Devil.
What is it with you?

I’m here in your field of fire,
on my knees.
The permafrost is holding me,
and I smell gasoline.
What is it with you?

I’m here under a blood-stricken sky,
on hands and knees,
crawling through the icy sea,
and I hear screams for me.
What is it with you?

I’m here six-feet under you,
holding my breath,
clawing away my fingernails,
and I see dizzying darkness.
What is it with you?

I’m here in your head.
I’m you thoughts,
picking at your conscience,
and I taste all your fears.
What is it with you?