Micah Park Biffle

The Doctors Motive    The cold lights of the operation room ominously fall from the ceiling. I feel them collapse upon me with such a somber feel. As I stare between the glowing lights I begin too feel my legs become numb as they administer the injection.   The doctor and nurse peer over my face as they look down on me. There blue medical masks obscuring their faces as a dull haze of a halo mists from behind their heads. My eyes start to become heavy.  The nurses face fades from my view as the doctor continues to look at me, his eyes as still as the moon. He blinks a few times and says, "Count down from one hundred."   I start to count and as I do I feel a sudden penetration of a cold shiver take my body. But with the injection I feel no motion of shiver. A tinge of worry takes me as I count. "One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven...."  I can no longer keep my eyes open. Fighting has become hopeless as I feel a frigid presence h...

A Lie of Weakness There, at the edge of the dirt road upon this solitary night; she stood, silent, gazing toward my vacant existence. She stood beneath a willow tree, that held itself at the foot of the river. And there, our eyes met with fervor. Hers, shimmered like the lighting of the moon, cold, alone, but mesmerizing. And as I stared, I was drawn, like that of new found doe to its mother. I craved her like the succulence of fruit. I felt her presence pull me like gravity, waving me in, towing me out, like that of an evening tide. And as I approached, I felt this brisk summer night, begin to caress me with warmth. A dry warmth I should say, a warmth, I had never felt before. With each approaching step I became deeply enthralled in this curiosity of what forges such heat, on such a raw bliss-less twilight.  And as I loomed my hollowed bones toward her, the warmth began to rise. Sweat seeped from my brow, but I pay it no mind. For it deserved no regard of mine, f...

A Dependence  You watched me, pleased with your affects. You brought only misery to the void of my heart. Displacing my thoughts in the hands of suffering. I became your puppet, strung out on your command like an abused child beneath the voice of its father. You concluded with no reason. Abandoned I became even further, you clambered in with precise madness. Growing chaos with each seething tooth at which bled me. You found pleasure in my own forsaken wings. Drowned me in your purest from you did. Battered I became, left with no will, left with no reason to transpire. But to be your empty devotee,  I ached for you.  Gladly, I tarnished my soul to burrow withing your existence. A womb is what I felt, but a false one were you. Teething at my broken heart, you knew, in my insecure and decrepit state, I could be owned. I could be yours till nothing was left but my complete inane desolation. And in the delight of such an accomplishment, you shall find another. ...