Our driveway
Our door step
Our bedroom
feeling sheets over our face
an unflinching echo
-M. Taggart
Month: April 2018
Odd Walking Thoughts
it’s not for us to talk about. so we wash our thoughts with alure. let’s pretend to walk with smiling thoughts. purple isn’t fucking pure. how heavy breathing leaves no path- It’s your modern world. So we beat our selves some more.
-M. Taggart
Ok
I sit under the shadow of my own self conscience
Sent from my iPhone
poem-
On a sun dried hill
underneath an old tree
Lay my head
Where the roots feel cool
and my eyelids sag
-M. Taggart
Do you dream this too?
I can’t be the only one having these dreams. I was standing on a bluff a few hundred feet above the ocean. The approaching wave was level with my head. The wave behind that was trying to block the sun. The people on the beach below are oblivious. No one ran. In this dream there was a mountain behind me. -I can’t be the only one.
Matt
Twenty plus years for me.
To Write
I write to break the world-
To set it free
-M. Taggart
Truth
Don’t ask how to write
There is no how
Just fucking write
And let them catch up
-M. Taggart
Not I
I can read a book in a crowded pub
but I can’t write a damn thing
while the cat is under my desk
licking its fur
The inside of my brain becomes
most irritated
-M. Taggart
Odd Walking Thoughts
Listening to the rain. I’m home. The sands of time can go fuck themselves. Each of them. Home wasn’t always a thing I knew. Home was a faint whisper about Honesty and relief. Home was a deepening hole begging you to never tell. Never tell. As hushed mushroom grew in the shower. A blistering mouth spewed throbbing beginnings. – Listening to the rain it’s hard not to love. Now that I am home. And I am home.
-M. Taggart
Mirror
I remember his tears
they were like my own
I unbuttoned his shirt
and turned the mirror
-M. Taggart
mtaggartwriter 