The house on the hill had always pulled her to it.

When she saw the for sale sign she knew It had to be her's. She couldn't really afford it but she found a way.

She worked 2 full time jobs. But this beautiful house on the hill was hers

She never saw her kids but told herself "look what you are giving them."

She wasn't trash anymore she lived in house on the hill.

Ten years She put everything She had into it. Vacations were spent working in the yard. Holidays were perfect snapshots before She ran back to work.

Then the divorce and everything had to be divided.

Now it is sold. Final walk through is done. Papers are signed. The new owners take possession tomorrow. Tomorrow the house on the hill is theirs. Tomorrow She will be nothing but trash again.

But tonight it is still hers.

She packed a few things in her bag and parked down the block .She didn't want anyone to notice her car there.

The house was completely empty. It was eerily inviting, no furniture, no toys, no mess, no noise.

She locked the door, climbed the stairs and walked down the hall to the master bath.

She loved this house. She loved this room. The house loved her. It wanted her to stay.

She needed to be here, one last time. She unpacked her bag. She lit the 3 candles, and placed them on the back of the whirlpool tub. She opened the bottle of wine and filled her glass. She laid out her towel, the bath gel, her brush, her lipstick and her razor. She started the bath and poured in the gel. She watched the bubbles grow as she slipped out of her clothes and flicked off the light.

She slid into the huge tub with the candles flickering in the corner. Now she was finally relaxed, she belonged here. Everything was perfect.

After the bottle of wine was finished she ran the brush through her hair several times. Next she popped the blade out of her razor and held it in her right hand. She placed it against the soft skin on the inside of her left arm and calmly sliced it open all the way to her hand. She reapplied her lip stick, as the bubbles became pink. She turned on the hot water to keep her blood flowing well. Then opened the drain so the mess would all empty away. She couldn't soil her house on the hill.

Now she would never have to leave.

his wing abroad 

and sharp as a knife 

his face warm and soft 

like a evenings night 

his teeth bony 

and cunning 

his appearance 

shadowlike 

his words 

slurred 

and curled 

around the lips of his listeners 

his eyes sunken 

in from the ship wreck 

from the ocean of his heart 

his wings spacious and wide 

plucked 

his brain slumped 

and drunken off the fairytales 

of he would be the king 

his spell-binding apperances 

conjure 

up vodoo 

of the spirt of the little boys 

conscience 

and 

latchs 

unto 

his 

immoral 

fanatasties 

of 

greed 

his 

mouth 

dripping 

with 

saliva 

craving 

for 

immature

little 

children 

to 

devour 

their 

fairytales 

where to be powerful 

you need to have power