My reply, Lucy.

and also the men who are too large, walking. hurting, toward the store
and the women who sit in their cars, windows nearly closed, smoke
everywhere and they see me looking at you, in my phone, while I’m
none of them and also everything they are and here we all sit
Wondering about how the soft shuffling of a heavy foot can make
it to the entrance of the store, one with a door that opens for them,
knowing they are hurt. And maybe think about their death.
I see in them what they hate about themselves and I feel.

-M. Taggart

13 thoughts on “My reply, Lucy.

  1. I felt hurt, but never hate. I was low, severely depressed. I didn’t appreciate my life. I didn’t understand myself. Maybe I never will. But I’m standing now. I can’t continue here without hurting her. So I’m leaving. I have no more public venues. But I should be alright. She’s got people. That’s a good thing. It will probably be a lot quieter with me gone.


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