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Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
I clutch my spiral ring notebook
Close to my pounding chest
I flinch with every glancing look
My thoughts do not rest
With cold hard stares
Their eyes drill into my head
I sit here among the savage bears
I sit on my death bed
I make sure the sheets are nice and neat
I write endlessly in my notebook
I flow my fears into it and steady my heart beat
I ramble like an endless brook
Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
Flames consume her lips
Light dances on her fingertips
Her eyes are cold with desire
How can i light her fire?
To make her laugh dance and smile
Even though its been awhile
My brain is wired
And at the same time so very tired
With all the games i play
All the things that come but never stay
Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
I think with half empty words
They strike clashing minor chords
They bounce and resonate in my head
With all the lies i have been fed
By people close and far
These things start to scar
Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
Tell me who you are.
Any old lie will do
Lies will get you far
They speak louder then you
You drive fast down the road
Specters of the past on your tail
They just add to your load
You hear them wail
Wailing so many different names
Ones i have never heard
Your an expert at games
So many lines blurred
At the next stop i leave
You hardly look at me
You hardly grieve
I could never see what you see
Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
When she talks you can hear the smile
And she does it with such style
You watch from a distance
Your friends offer you assistance
But your too scared
And look a little impaired
So you wait till the fear goes away
and you can go make her day
Then that time has come
To stop looking so glum
You ask her out and she says yes
it was a success
Patrick McCombs Dec 2010
I take a hot long shower
At this odd hour
The sun is long set
As i get soaking wet
The water washes away the dirt
And with it all the hurt
My muscles relax and my brain sighs
In here i sever all ties
The constant sound of water against tiles
So many long miles
Patrick McCombs Dec 2010
Borrowed time and dying love
He craves an answer from above
He  sits with himself alone
Curled up on his bed with his phone
He stares at the bright screen
Wondering what it could mean
He is lost
He gazes at the falling frost
A harsh wind blows
He forgets all he knows
The warm touch of sunshine
The laughs of a good time.
He hides in a cocoon of sheets
Mindlessly checking status updates and tweets
He wishes for a sign
To see everything fine.
He soon falls asleep
Falling into forests dark and deep.
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