Atop Her Hill

She’s sitting alone. Onto the hills of her hope. Her long locks of beauty shielding her face from sunlight. Causing her soul to darken. Her eyes wondering to and fro. But her heart is blind. The dead razor sharp grass of this hill reminds her of the blade. The blade the comforts her as she slides it mercifully across her bare skin, causing it to break. As she pushes her hair away from her face she can imagine the pain in her expression as she feels her hot tears stream quickly off of her face. Wiping this painful trail from her face…she stands. “Like before” she thinks… Just like before, she walks away.