A Poem: The End


Reprinted from http://bit.ly/1llYv8R

The End By: Michala Tyann

In between blood, the sun and the waves, everything traded places. until it kissed folly and touched gloom .

With the deserts and the forests, quaking and shaking I refused to be swallowed up by all of the chaos.

The colors dissolved. Obscurity grabbed control and I screamed, I sang a song that meant never to be heard, a song that my soul harbored deep within.

I wanted to put my hands over my ears and cry, My eyes stayed fixed above as new colors embraced my world, colors of labor and demise.

I felt the transformations I caressed the new order, Absorbed it, and disremembered the ways of old.

The stars fell, one by one, in a shower of lights. When one fell towards me, It whispered “do not be afraid.” I felt the pressure closing around me, taking my breath and then shoving it back into my soul.

The light faded into a gray, the knowledge, once and for all beaming a desolate blackness.

I heard a faint sound, Something dying, Something forgotten. Something finished.

Where The Lies Sleep

broken mirrorUpon taking the first breath.

In the darkness behind the door, locked from outside.
Beneath the blanket that holds no security.
Smiling back, lips offering the first kiss.
Snickering and offering no escape.
Within the darkly lit house with the enormous library.
Around the table full of disclosed secrets.
Throwing rocks at the window, seeking entrance. Continue reading


I fight the battle.
Ignore what cuts me
Releasing pain. Truth
Runs cold over me.
Invisible aches
I suffer the images
Reflections turning
My insides. I stare
Into eyes.
Promise smiles.
Lies-dormant knots
Wake up. Once
Shoved away, cast aside
Creep back.
Forced to see, feel
What peels
Away my concrete layers
I am brought down
But I lift them up.
Refusing to let
My residue be
Their future.

Among Many Pews

Among Many Pewspews

Timid child, tiny chair
Circle time on Sunday
Pretty songs, she smiles.
Dreadful boy looks down
She is ugly, unlikable
a foreigner in his house.
Same room, now cramped.
Lonely. Silent.
Lessons ignored.
She studies the carpet.

The square van comes at six
Welcomes all.
A labyrinth of halls Continue reading

Where I Was

Where I Waswhere i was

Pretty little blue eyes set
Upon the pale, shy girl of three
She held the great divide and
Protected me
From Monsters.
Safe from their reach
She alone heard my cries
And took those tears,
Formed her weapon.
Sliced the ache apart.

Quick, resilient girl of nine
Playing dolls, exposing secrets
Safely, among the absent.
As only a child would. Continue reading

Who Else?

who elseWho Else?

By: Michala Tyann

You are either there and you bear witness

Or you are gone and you miss it.

And if you do witness it, use your voice

Tell others. Who else will?

If you are gone, then when you do hear it

Don’t brush it off as a lie, a misunderstanding.

Because there is another who was there Continue reading