Hi, My name is Micah Park Biffle, I am the author of ' A Man's Traveled Heart,' I am a Veteran who found in understanding of my self through writing. I consider myself an architect of the imagination. Here you will see my creations come to life. My short stories, poems, my thoughts, and a little touch of my life. (I AM SLOWLY MOVING OF BLOGGER< FOR NEW STORIES PLEASE CLICK THE "MEDIUM" LINK TO THE LEFT)
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A Story of Me, Dare I Say
A Story of Me, Dare I Say
I buried my heart years before I
knew what life meant, before I ever took a moment to explore the kingdom that
is within me.
Before the coming of age, I fell
to the preaches of the popular and the cool. I listened to unsightly words become
labels of me, such as,“stupid” on needless occasions, as students looked on and
the teacher pointed. I fell prey to the voices that cluttered my existence of
who I was, and what I was meant for.
As time passed I struggled with
the savoring of poison, numbing my thoughts and the voices that crept. Feeding the urge to make it all go away with the joys of pills and the rare
occasion of coke drowned with whiskey and false laughter that came with it.
Only to end each night with quivering misery and spiteful hate toward myself.
With misery building her home
inside me, I left myself locked behind walls with tears sunken in a well, never
to be released. Skirting the thoughts that would leave not only my heart buried
but my flesh.I had demons clawing at the walls
of my mind, coming to fruition in my dreams, leaving me restless like the
ticking of a clock. Always going never stopping. Anxiety swept the air like
foul stench of rot. I found myself insatiably tasting the sour flavors of pity.
Waiting for a hand to pull me from this hell I so maliciously adored.
I thought there was nothing to
save me, that this is all I had. Yet, there was a something in me, a voice, a
voice I believe that had always been there, call it God, the universe, call it
what you may. But it found its way through the empty echoes of my shadows.
could hear it, constant, like a soft breeze to my ear, whispering for me to
create, to spill ink upon paper, to venture into myself. And when all felt that
all would collapse on me as I emptied a bottle down the dry walls of my throat,
tearful eyes clouded my sight and I found myself writing an entire book. It was
a release from all the pain and sorrow I had held inside for far too long.
Keeping it locked away like the denial of dreadful disease. I had finally found
what had always been yearning in me.
Writing broke down the walls I had built so
high and gave me a view of myself so beautiful, my heart wept along with my
soul.I now have the ability to dig up
my heart and place it in its proper home.
So now I say to you, if your
heart is buried, find that tool, that will help you dig it up. For something in
you is yearning to come to creation of life.
I believe their is a talent in all of us, have you found yours?
"Let your umbrella unfold, dance beneath the rain when others won't shelter you with the echoes of love my dear." Her mother said as she kissed her upon the forehead.
Sophia looking up at her mother smiles as she holds her pink umbrella above her head. Her mother, raising up from the kiss takes Sophia by the hand and they begin to walk. Sophia, only five and her father off on a business trip, her mother becomes lonely.
And so they walk, they walk through evenings, mornings, dusk's and dawns. Watching the graceful colors of sunsets and sunrises. Sophia's mother teach's her to admire the colors before them. Not just the wonderful vibrant colors, but also the dull. The gloomy streaks of darkness.
For everything has a purpose in this world. From the thunder storms to clear skies. Sophia, holding her mother's hands as they walk through the rain looks and up and asks, "Mother, why do you cry? Do the colors of this clouded night …
A Pocket Flower
I breathe upon the cold morning glass as I look out into the open plains of the country. And with my finger I draw a heart splitting in two, it quickly fades. I look back out into the world and design a new one.
I let my senses roam wild as imagination rushes from my head like water. Flooding my view with bountiful ideas. I see titans clashing, gods fighting, I see mysteries lingering in the lonely mist. I see monsters creeping from the distant moons and music flow gently from the darkened woods.
I watch golden leaves fall as the sun begins to rise. The soft tone of frozen grass begins to sparkle. I see birds thrust from their nests and chirp to the vast outreaches of nature. I am overwhelmed by what I see, and I smile.
I breathe again upon the cold morning glass. But this time, I draw a single heart held together. I let it fade as the last, but this time I breathe upon the glass once more. I observe the heart I drew with much thought, much intrigue.
Faye paused for a moment, looking the gentlemen before her up and down. She showed no interest as her eyes steered across his body. He wore a tuxedo, a black tuxedo with thin white leather gloves. His hair was pressed back like a wave.
It glistened with a tint of blonde against the festive lights that stood lit around the courtyard. The moon hung with a delicate tone of blue. The stars shone with magnificence, so clearly they could be seen, any sailor could have found his way among them.
After she looked him over she perked her lips, opened her purse and pulled out a stick of lipstick. Faye wore a black dress with a red silk rose sewn above her right breast. She took the lipstick and pressed it to her lips.
A dark crimson stained her puckered lips. As she painted her lips of an alluring red, she paid no attention to the gentlemen before her. Her eyes were kept strictly to the small hand mirror she already had in her…