The+hand

E**x**hausted, she hit with one blow.
 * A**ll that was there was a hand.
 * B**ounding to kill her.
 * C**ramming a knife in.
 * D**riven mad was her, running.
 * E**verything was a traumatic blur.
 * F**rantic she was.
 * G**lass fell and shattered.
 * H**eaving through everything to run is what she did.
 * I**n all the ruckus, something looked familiar.
 * J**agged glass surrounded her and the hand.
 * K**illing was the only goal for the hand.
 * L**ove was nowhere to be found from her.
 * M**onths of this same thought past by.
 * N**othing would stop this moment.
 * O**ften brushed away was this feeling.
 * P**ressing on her heart was the hand holding the knife.
 * Qu**enching her thirst for blood.
 * R**ewind the past and you'll understand.
 * S**he smiled, for she knew.
 * T**he hand was hers.
 * U**ntil now, she never thought of putting this into action.
 * V**ile screams filled her thought.
 * W**ill she strike yet?
 * Y**ells shattered her remains.
 * Z**ipping through was the hand, which was hers.