Micah Park Biffle

Whiskey on the Rocks    This whiskey, how graceful you fall, how gently you warm my heart. Delicate in aroma, stiff in taste. But how delightful. You coat my lingering pain so well, as if marriage be in order. Anguish and whiskey, till death do we part.   I embrace you with my drunken hand. Shaking, quivering to the somber melodies of my lonely soul. What beauty you bring from my aching heart. Bringing forth copious thoughts that pour from a broken spout.   I taste you in all things I relate to your amber color, your wooden flavors. The sunset, it brings me to want you, to taste you as if you are the melting vision before me. A genius you create as the snow falls softly upon the ground.   I freeze in my appearance as I look through my window. Admiring the scenery of the cold dreary winter. But I see myself, my dazed eyes, the dark circles that hug my drunken face. Looking, I can't help but weep, oh how I thought you numbed me. How I thought you snuff...

Vanity Streets  I took my hand to the steering wheel and shoved my foot to the accelerator. The world around me became a blur. I felt the force of my engine press me back into my seat. Everything in my body tingled, a great sense of satisfaction covered my body.  The speed, the power, almost uncontrollable. I looked ahead of me, dead eye to the horizon, with no chance of looking back. I wanted nothing to do with he city behind me. As I sped down the highway, I took a glimpse in my rear view mirror.  I could see the city lights dwindle, I smiled as it was finally my time to leave. My tires left a mark, something for it to remind me by. Something, to show I care nothing about that city. It has become a hell hole of memories and foolish trends.  I loath everything about it. Everyday I could feel the weight of bullshit the people in that city permeated. It was like humidity sticking to your skin. No matter what you did, the moment you stepped outside, you we...

Self Medicating   She hears the shrills of her mind cry with seething agony. The world feels of lonely burdens and recluse feelings. Leaving her numb to the expectation of self. Her skin pulls taught at each moment of breath.  A ceiling of falling emotions cloud her heart. Her eyes pale to the moonlight. She is quiet in her words but loud in her head. She walks with a smile upon her face as she knows it is fake. Popping pills to feel okay. Listening to music to drown out the pain but nothing keeps her in frame.  She buckles the moment she is home from work. Her house in shambles from neglect as faces of sadness seep from the walls. Tears fall, but no relief is given as her pillow is her only companion to console.  She knows her heart is bitter in the lonesome wails of her past. But so bruised, so scarred, she is held by rigid fear. Her own family she has distanced as the pain is only thing she knows. Her face, in a perpetual drama of shame, of gui...

Do You Feel Me Changing  I am falling, can you feel that? The cold and awkward feel of being transformed. I am drifting into something I can't explain. I am feeling a void of myself, I am feeling, of something else. Voices plague the fractures of my mind. Courting a temptress of lies, trying to walk me down a path of exposed wounds. Cattled are my scars, grouped in the abandoned stairwell of my heart. I am suffocated by this unwanted extension of myself. The pain, at which has no name. Strange echoes speak in the distance as I wake. Alive I feel, but am I something else, someone else? I hear them, I now speak with them. Before, it was just me, alone inside my head. Now I am clustered with many. Formed in the malpractice of my own mind, but not at my hand. Confused, yet I believe, I constrict my thoughts to their wishes. Most of those whom I know, are now mere shadows of my life. Family has become a fleeting picture. Arguments collide in the halls of my home. Tears ...

The Angst of Success and Popularity There is this angst to complete it now. To bring forth the riches that others posses. To force ones self into the putrid greed of material. To breathe in the vile waves of the rotten and live in the physical. I am saddened by this wish of existence. This existence to find one in the overwhelming need to present ones self as if to be a king or queen. But know nothing of how to delegate their actions, their emotions. They hold dear to show fashion, that supposedly makes them tingle, makes them smile. But dreary is the possessor of the concrete, the possessor who lives for nothing other, than the popularity of self. Shadows rot the cavities of their soul, but they speak of it not. They latch image, an image that is baked in the sugars of man. Only to be swallowed by the naive, the young, the reckless. The teachers of wisdom, the elders of experience, and ears to listen, have been plucked. Few gardens grow the willingness to be patient, to l...

What Keeps You Moving? What keeps you afloat in this drowning but dazzling world? Is it the flowers that bloom regardless of how bitter or harsh winter was? Do you find the drive to keep pressing on because of your children, your family, or friends? Or is it the fear of ever falling back to where you were? To lose all you have gained and become the frail pawn of sadness once more. To plummet to that dark alley where the scathing embrace of misery laid its head. Where the repugnant aroma of suffering breathed it breath. Leaving you soiled in its heated fluids of loathing. Causing the shivering of your soul as if to be a lonely child to the abuse of an unsightly offender. That empty room where you consumed the darkest thoughts as if it would bring hope. That addiction of agony that few truly understand. That excruciating feeling of wishing to expire and succumb to the insufferable call of death. What keeps you going? For what ever keeps you going, I pray the clari...

 A Romance of The Broken  I love you, Those three words, a massacre did they bring. My heart strung in agony for the world to see. To watch me bleed with boiling agony that not even I could contain. And with no sympathy, you packed your instrument of love, never to play by my side again.  I became an abandoned piano in the dust of your empty heart. And your lips turned sour with the mere thought of my yearning for your soul. A distant hand did you become as you vanished the recesses of my mind. Still, I gave you a place in my heart, though yours was a chamber of murder for mine.  I could not leave what I prayed would spark a new. That in the hour of midnight you would call to me. Not for the longing of an ear. But for the blooming desire of love, for something beyond what had been planted.  But with each passing night, I became but a mere poet of lonely stanzas. Not even the rays of the sun brought me hope. I grew dreary in the confines ...

A King, Greed and Ego A man of highest praise was he. His kingdom filled with gold and every pleasure his mind could ever conceive. And with these riches came his finger of greed, his ego along side it. Greed and ego became great friends, they fed off each other like addiction. Always wanting more, in the constant need of a fix. Conquer many lands did he. And as his kingdom grew, so did his greed, his ego. He was the best dressed, the best spoken, educated, and best looking. But he never left the confines of his kingdom, and his father before him, allowed no mirrors. One might find this odd, but not his father. For his father became in his own reflection, as does this king, the son. After conquering the last kingdom that was approachable by land. The king decided it was safe for him to pasture out into the world. He had his soldiers guide him to the first kingdom he conquered. And along the way he made sure to boast about his achievements to all he passed. Every village 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. ...