There's a house on the hill
that your life used to fill,
but now it's empty and still.
Much like a broken heart
it's falling apart,
crumbling and shattered
like a sad piece of art.
Through the years, the paint has begun to fade and peel,
but time has yet to cover the loss that I still feel.
It is no longer a home,
and though I should have known,
it's still a bitter pill,
knowing that you no longer live in the house on the hill.
~Liz Austin 2020
Born and raised in Upstate NY, Liz is a freelance writer. She has written for websites, blogs, and magazines for the last 10 years. She also acts as a proofreader and beta reader for several authors, all the while working on her first book.