Micah Park Biffle

A Plague  I woke, gripped in the cold grasp of a nightmare. My lungs pulsating in the hunger for air as my mind played games in the shadows. My heart quaking in the frightful gloom of my ghastly dream. But as I woke, a strange tickle lingered in my throat. I began to cough uncontrollably, as if I was plagued with the unsightly sickness of tuberculosis. I have not been sick in over a year. I have had my yearly check ups and am highly active in my health. I found it extremely odd.  So upon my waking I took heed to the coughing and quickly got dressed. I was fighting tooth and nail to keep back the cough the best I could. But I couldn't, it was quite the struggle for me to get dressed. It felt as if my body was trying to resist the act of clothing myself. Once I was dressed, I rushed out the door hailed a taxi and boarded it. In between my manic coughing, I removed my arm from my mouth and told the driver where to go. He immediately placed on a doctors mask and ...

The Hollow Horrors Of Melancholy  I close my eyes in rest. But I am no fool to what shall find me in my slumber. For my viscous melancholy has the say in my dreams. It has suffocated the colors that once flourished in the springs of my dreams.  It has coiled its leather body around the serene. Strangling the geysers of my imagination and I run dry of design as I seek to be clean. This demon, be it the spreading of the deranged, of my decaying brain. It flairs its wings and parades it fangs with each sleepless night at the strike of twelve thirteen.  Its eyes, darker than any hue of ink you have ever seen. Its breath like the heat of candle held to close to flesh. Its screeches as if it too, has become the victim of the horrific. Of the wicked workings of sadness and the obscene.  I would find no surprise to see that which haunts me. Is but another running from their horrors, but they have drowned to the cursed ravine. Now they haunt others for the ...