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Patrick McCombs Apr 2013
The cold wind cuts right through
Goosebumps appear on my skin
Your eyes are this sweet glacial blue
And your voice is sweet and thin
I hold your hand in mine
As the snow gives under our feet
And the stars up above shine
The street barely looks like a street
It looks like a winter wonderland
Its been awhile since our last walk
And this one was a little unplanned
But you certainly can talk
I can't really feel my face
Your face is a windblown red
You challenge me to a race
Before I can say anything you have already fled
Patrick McCombs Nov 2010
The woods are cold and desolate
The sun is dimly lit
The shadows move fast
Nothing bright will last
old gnarled trees stand tall
at the roots lay an old little doll
her old brown hair tied in knots
her cloth skin slowly rots
an old man walks around
his gray eyes facing the ground
he steps on crushed leaves
For the lost souls he grieves
The woods here are dying
the birds are no longer flying
all has fallen to the floor
what once moved doesn't move anymore
Patrick McCombs Mar 2011
Laying in the endless grass
Just waiting for time to pass
Time slowly moves
Its runs in well worn grooves
The sky bleeds a bright red
Some things are best left unsaid
People talk and say nothing
useless words are unloving
Thats why i sit in silence
Because half said words lead to violence
You
Patrick McCombs Oct 2010
You
You are the rising sun
You are the only one
You are a thunder storm on a clear day
You a blizzard in the middle of may
You are the last blue freeze pop
You are that amazing day that will never stop
You are board games in the dead of night
You are my bright light
You are how I get by
You hold the stars up in the sky
You are the wind that blows us around
You are that pure and simple sound
You are me and I am you
You and i together, there is nothing we can't do
I added the last two lines a year after i wrote this. They just popped into my head one day
Patrick McCombs Oct 2017
You know you’re depressed when you watch an ad for depression medication and think hey that sounds like me
You know you’re depressed when sweatpants make up a large portion of your wardrobe
You know you’re depressed when people tell you just to try harder or to just be happy
You know you’re depressed when you take naps all the time just because it's easier than being awake
You know you’re depressed if you cry at episodes of Star Trek The Next Generation
You know you’re depressed when you have to pretend to be excited
You know you’re depressed when you feel overwhelmed and you haven’t done anything that day
You know you’re depressed when it’s 3am
You know you’re depressed if people know and keep trying to interact with you
You know you’re depressed if you have chemical imbalance in your brain
You know you’re depressed when you can’t bother to make actual dinner so you just eat oreos and call it a day
You know you’re depressed when netflix asks if you’re still watching
You know you’re depressed when your friends call and you don’t respond
You know you’re depressed when you just want to stop
Patrick McCombs Dec 2011
My fingers laced in the notches in your spine
Our fates intertwine
Our eyes align
Words flowing sweeter wine
And jesus you're all mine
We balance on a thin line
In the cold your eyes are bluer
our words a little truer
Misunderstandings a little fewer
We look odd to the average viewer
To think that you are an actuality
not a figment of my augmented reality
Patrick McCombs Feb 2011
It all felt so cold
All lifeless and desolate
The words erupted from the mouth
and fell dead on the floor
Blood flowed forth from them
blood black and colorless
Your face look liked stone
Emotionless cold and composed
as i collapsed onto the floor
In a fit of rage and confusion
I looked up you were gone.
Just like that.
Trying Free Verse out.
Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
I write to you to have someone to talk to
I don't know what to do
There blood on the streets, its on my shoes
Death had been collecting its dues
Stop and smell that wonderfully awful fume
I sit here half naked in my bed
Cowering under the bed sheet
No time for a meet and greet
They are marching on
From dusk till dawn
Their skin hangs loose
Man kind made his own noose
We have dabbled in god
And we have created something quite odd
They will feast on us for the rest of time
We live in fear and grime
I hear the faint yell
From those monster from hell
I must go.
And hope they do slow.

— The End —