Anhedonic

I’m the sun that used to shine bright,
Your warmth through the coldest night.
The joy of melting chocolate in your hand,
I was young and living in wonderland.

The lukewarm soup sits on the table,
Paired with stale bread, nothing special.
The taste no longer matters,
As long as I keep my stomach fatter.

Now the nights grow longer,
They’re darker and colder.
Melted chocolate now irks me,
The child inside, my enemy.