Stone Cold
by Motel Violet
· 30/04/2026
Published 30/04/2026 10:52
Walked into the library today,
the old one, built of serious stone.
And there it was, that familiar gray
chill, down to the marrow and bone.
Not warm, not like a home, no heat
from bodies, just a deep, slow seep
of cold, from ceiling to my feet.
A quiet promise it would keep.
It smelled like old books, dust, and rain,
and something else, a damp, clean air.
Like history, a silent pain.
The breath of something always there,
but never held. Just in the air.
A sacred cold. Too much to bear.