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Patrick McCombs Sep 2021
Trapped beneath the surface of the ice again
Nothing I say will penetrate the thick crust of permafrost
That has surrounded and enveloped me.
Sympathies of my confidants have been exhausted
A well has been bled dry by slow repetition.  
There’s a black hole in the center of my chest
Nothing escapes from its dark clutches
Nothing escapes this  tempest, only silence remains,
The lake is calm on the surface
But underneath lies a vortex threatening to consume everything in its path.
Everything is a puzzle waiting to be solved.
With the right knowledge and perspective, conundrums can be unraveled.
But I can’t seem to solve myself.
I want to untie the gordian knot
Revealing the root cause of my problems.
Ghosts from the past that need to be confronted.
The past is always erupting into the present
Interrupting the natural progression of things.
The past nudges things ever so slightly
Until you're on a path wondering how you ended up there.
In order to confront the apparitions of the past,
They must be summoned first.
Offer them memories buried underneath years of emotional sediment.
The ghosts of my past are murky nameless things that are beyond definition.
Will naming the things that have haunted me dispel them?
What if nothing is gained from digging up the bodies and studying the bones beneath the earth that was better left undisturbed.
Patrick McCombs Feb 2018
Nobody is behind me.
Nobody is behind me.
Nobody is behind me.
I double check
I feel my muscles relax
Giving into it
The pressure is rerouted
The valve is momentarily relieved
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 Feb 2017
Two people talking on the train
Thunderous overwhelming roar of motion
Drowning out all sound
As if someone put them on mute
****** expressions and hand gestures remain
The bare bones of the conversational garnish.
Before cell phones or headphones
Were there more conversations
Or were they sardines trapped in deadly silence
Hanging over them like a toxic gas.
When the Train is filled to the brim
Almost bursting and spilling out  
And it just stops in the middle of the tracks.
A sudden silence and a stillness
Without the rhythm and motion of the train
you realize that you're standing mere inches away
From at least four different people.
There's a audible sigh and curses because
Everyone on the train is trying to get somewhere.
Patrick McCombs Feb 2017
There's something lost in translation
Something lost from mind to paper
Where the most precise words fail
From paper to other discerning eyes
Where the words are no longer yours
Intentions are stolen and melted down
Forged into weapons, new and beautiful
Things you never intended to create
Patrick McCombs Jan 2017
You’re a thought half remembered
Finer details seeping and slipping though
The cracks of memory
Never solid, always fleeting

Filling in the gaps
With leaps of logic
Painting in the blanks
With complementary shades

The past never dies
The corpse is repacked
Airbrushed and glossed
So it isn't so hard to look at
Patrick McCombs Dec 2016
Disappointment washed over your face
Radiating off of you in waves
Creating ravaging riptides
Dragging me down into depths
Unknown and unexplored
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