Micah Park Biffle

A Weary Traveler and their Words    Where to travel with this weary heart? I take up my art of broken dreams the seamless lines of darkness crowding my vision into blankness. A shroud of shadows singing so proud the hallows of the empty hollow halls. The void of my heart, tearing the delicate parts.  Where to take this lonely heart? The mountains are cold, the valleys are low and my heart is even deeper. Sinking further into the distance, a star fading to existence as wolves prowl between the howls of the wind. A sin I live in, a torment of grief, of cascading pleads.  Hands bleed as a I hold this ax, cutting down trees. Making a home that shall fit me. But alone it is difficult and in time gives no residual. And alone these eyes see two perspectives. Two objectives of my miserable perception.  Joyful and dark, each with their own end, their own start. A stark terror of fear, rejection of joy, of a happy poise. As whispers of hopeful ploys, ladled i...

  She Weeps  Oh and she weeps. She weeps among the stars and the sadness in her eyes. She looks in her reflection and she is burdened. She sees only the darkness that runs along her skin like scales. But she finds no season to shed it.  She is ambushed in her tears. Cornered by the splitting of her thoughts. She is encumbered by noise, by the bristles of her mind. Pricked with each passing second as she tries to allude to something else. To anger, to hope, to anxiety, to coldness, or the hollow halls of the numb.  To anything but this miserable feeling of existence. Feeling useless in the breaking of her world. Watching as villains swarm her cosmos like the flames of hell. Oh she weeps in terror as her makeup cracks upon her face. Disgusted, she turns away. Looking to the far spaces between the vast expanse of space. Her eyes delicate, like fractured glass of an old church. She stares into the void of the empty black. Seeing only the lonely sparks that ar...

The Narrow Walls to The Heart  I open up the door and before me stands a giant wall, roughly three-hundred feet tall. Pearl white, smooth like ivory keys of a grand piano. No cracks, no blemishes, just a wall of solid white. I approach with a curious heart. Nearing the wall, a door appears, a red door, only a few inches taller than me. It holds a golden knob with no key hole. With my world as it is, I see no caution not to open it. Everything at this point feels hopeless. My heart feels trapped and I see no end to my suffering. My ribs feel constricted upon my heart and my breathing has become shallow. So, I do what any desperate soul would do, I open the the door. As I do, a bright light shines for a moment. I can't see at first, but I adjust. I step through and there, in front of me is another wall. Another large standing wall, only ten feet from me. No door appears like the first, I immediately turn around to return to the first door, but it has vanished. I am star...