Crinkle of the plastic, sharp against my skin.
Smooth surfaces, soft center,
how can the sweet be so sad?
Memories of the past haunt the present,
with unsure hands I search for the feeling.
Disappointment rushes in, but
warmth comes with it.
At once satisfied and longing,
on the doorstep of delight and desperation.
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I have always been interested in melancholy as a feeling. I think at its essence it's poetic, so I thought I would write about it.