Short Story Up

Here’s half of the Woah!! News:

My 5,000 word short story, Screaming Hills, has been published by, Z Publishing House, in their America’s Emerging Literary Fiction Writers: Northeast Region, 2019. This is a continuation of the first chapter, which was originally published by Z Publishing House in 2018. This short story is about the reality of every day life and struggles of small town America. Especially the mill town regions of the North East. The story is fiction, but may feel like non-fiction as it contains content concerning drug use, alcohol abuse, depression and anxiety; along with the failed economic structures of these towns. However, the story also drives toward hope and determination to succeed while pushing through the fog, toward personal development and happiness.

I do dive into philosophy and where ideals intersects with humanity. The writing is edgy. I’m surprised and massively thankful they accepted this piece.

My short story is within the “America’s Emerging Literary Fiction Writers: Northeast Region” via the link below.

http://www.zpublishinghouse.com?rfsn=2669705.c7990a

If you enjoy my writing, consider reading this story. It’s possibly only the beginning, of the beginning.

I am beyond excited-

Cheers everyone!

Matt

 

Overcome Hardship, lead, and live well.

My family is riddled with suicide
I myself am not suicidal
Quite the opposite. I love life.
In fact for much of my life I’ve experienced
Jealousy from others over my ability
To be happy in terrible situations
And unfortunately I’ve been forced to live
through a few extra ordinarily bad situations
But that’s OK. I learned to enjoy watching leaves drop
And how to find solace in the darkness of my eyelids
Nothing is too large for me to handle
My confidence, I’m forced to shade, yet people still see
And it bothers them
And so be it
I was the one ready for the midnight phone call
When he said he’d taken the pills
With the alcohol and that he’d be dead soon
I was the one on the phone when the police
entered his home with the paramedics
Listening to him scream for them to leave
I was the one who calmed him
The one that walked his mind to the ambulance
to thank the police and EMTs for trying to
let him live
I called the hospital they were taking him to
I was on the phone with their personnel in the
Emergency room while he was being wheeled in
‘Yes, we’ll have a psychiatrist sent in as soon
as they empty his stomach. Thank you for this
information.’ I had to tell them things he would
not have. The root of his weakness.
I don’t know why these things happen
I know that I am blessed because these moments
are never too large for me.
He is now happily married and an amazing father
And one of my favorite people on this Earth
I told him two years before he tried committing suicide
that he was going to try to end his life
So when the phone rang and I saw the number
I was ready
Because I’ve already lost too many family members
this way
So no, I am not suicidal, but I write about death and suicide
because I know it well and I know its pace
and the path it takes
I am not afraid of death
I am concerned with the process which leads to death
I think to die well matters
And if you haven’t found your absolute truth of
how this all works
Well, I hope you do
Because I know beyond doubt
That we are not alone

-M. Taggart

Thanks for reading. This wasn’t easy to write.

The Ants Go Marching, one, by one.

He always said he wanted to try everything once
and as far as I could see he was nearly there
Only thing is this time it got the better of him
He’s just out of jail and homeless again
lied about the sober house, lied about gaining weight.
Unfortunately using again too. That pisses me off
But it doesn’t matter. I can be as mad as I want
along with the rest of the people who care about him
He’ll die this way. And When he’s gone I’ll still love him.
How long will the state level programs continue to push
them away, waiting lists are long, don’t you know.
I’m sure he knew, when he was ushered out the door already
feeling failure exploding trough his veins. How many more
will stop breathing while high in a heroin dealers ‘home’
‘died of complications’ no charges
No fucking charges. I won’t get into that memory.
My home town might be a piss-ant to the powers that be
But it’s my home town and I love it. Loved it so much
I left its destruction behind. Had too. Not everyone can do that.
Some follow the leader and think trying everything once is a good idea
because they never thought it through. And one by one they go, they go.

-M. Taggart

with a sadness near me i write