Aesthetic Pain

The Halt

The bus took a halt.
Her eyes scanned a few memories, around the corners of the street,
a drop in the beat, she laid her head against the window.
Looking straight into the trees, she felt a warmth besides her,
the warmth held the scent of the past.
Those swollen shutters blinded her eyes,
and a smile grew on her lips,
but a harsh reality pierced her fantasy,
and the scent danced away with the wind, deepening her wounds and shallowing her
hope.