With The Butterflies

There she laid; peacefully, silently in the soft autumn leaves. Fallen from the stiff, wise oak tree above. Resting in pure beauty, her glowing amber hair resting gently through the grass. Her baby blue ocean eyes popped simply from the deep contrast of her pale skin and out of ordinary set of locks. Little freckles softly faded to show the world how quiet and gentle her soul comes about. A beautiful girl with a beautiful heart. Wanting nothing but to live in peace that she sits upon.
Little does the universe know her personality holds back an aggressive book of thoughts held archived in her well picked brain. Faced first hand with extreme circumstances in life, she grows tired. Becoming exhausted with the constant moments of dark, gloomy, wet rainy days while everyone else plays in the sun. Exhausted with the never ending weight of what feels like a hundred stones piled on her shoulders, she sits back and watches everyone dancing with the butterflies. Exhausted, she freezes in the warm autumn breeze. In this moment, from always feeling lost in life she finds herself.
Under the wise old tree, she relates. Just as the tree itself falls apart slowly in order to brace the cold bitter shifts, she senses she must be the same. Understanding why she must, she lifts her pretty self and climbs into the well practiced noose, no second thoughts she slips her life into depletion. Losing all of color she rests quietly, faded, weightless, peaceful. Dancing in the sun with the butterflies.