Melancholy

Melancholy sits like a shadow,

Not heavy, just there,

Sipping coffee on mornings that never quite feel right.

It doesn't scream, doesn't beg for attention,

Just exists—quiet, like a forgotten song

You used to hum without thinking.

Life moves around it,

But it lingers,

Like the last breath before you say goodbye,

A weightless ache in your chest

That doesn’t hurt, just occupies.

You wake up to another day

And wonder why it feels like déjà vu,

The same sunrise, but it doesn't promise anything—

It just happens.

Everything seems familiar,

But somehow nothing stays.

Melancholy isn't a tragedy,

It's a quiet rebellion against expectations.

It's understanding that maybe some things are too far gone,

That people are fleeting,

And happiness doesn’t come with a guarantee.

So you settle into the silence,

Let it fill you up,

Until the world is a little softer around the edges.

And maybe, just maybe,

You’ll find a little peace in knowing

That not everything needs fixing.

Some moments are just meant to be

Quietly, deeply,

Mourned in their own way.