Wake up and TASTE the melancholy.
You've been here before. You know
The texture, the warp and the weft,
You know it exactly.

The place in your chest that aches,
And is unfilled, you know the dry
Taste in the back of your mouth,
Pretending good cheer.

Not even tears. Not for these timed.
Quiet and internal. Quiet and deep.
No floating places. No happy ever after. Just this place again.

And too much space.
And too much distance.
And too much lone.
Lone melanchol.