The cold shoulder that helps

When the sounds of the day die down and the darkness sets in, I find slight comfort in the cold exterior of a silent friend.

When I feel I have no one in which to confide, times when I want to break down to tears, and when I feel so miserable, all I want is contact, I have a cold shoulder to rest upon.

It is always there, silent, grounded, cold and strong; I have a cold shoulder to rest upon.

Hearing my silent thoughts, longing for contact, an object so neglected itself had it a voice, it would welcome my melencholy being against it.

When no one else is around but my thoughts and myself, I know I have a spot I can feel comforted if only through imagination. A small, meaningless headrest can be such inspiration and uplifting aid.

My column of the building is my silent friend, a quiet listener and cold shoulder to rest upon when I feel like giving up.

Through the bright lights of lamps in the darkness and strands of hairs in front of my gaze, I find peace and calm in a quiet moment in the dead of night.

A country so cold, so seemingly lonely and uninhabited by intmacy and contact to a foreigner, I find a small epiphany when I rest my aching head upon an overlooked support for a building of life.

The wind blows with such chilling temperatures yet pales in comparison to the chaotic frenzy that takes over my mind and in the moment of destitute falling.

But I have at least one shoulder to rest upon. A welcomed cold shoulder to call my own little private time during the middle of the night.

Thank you, unappreciated structure. You support the building and support me as well.