She’s just a kid. A little girl. How can anyone hurt a little girl?
-M. Taggart
She’s just a kid. A little girl. How can anyone hurt a little girl?
-M. Taggart
It’s cold.
I need to talk about what happened.
Fingers typing aren’t always me.
Please though, come.
The floor again is open.
Eyes that shouldn’t be are.
Don’t fade, please not that.
We’ll do the best we can.
It’s good to see you.
Off my heart came a time with no bending. Timeless are the images that walk with me; down the hallway, to the right, into the bathroom, pull the drawer out because the lock wasn’t enough, and that’s how it was from the stench of the mud to the top of where I now sit, knowing it’s never over.
-M. Taggart
I curdled my thought
Instead of trying my
voice at arm’s length
-M. Taggart
Where were the great flames of humanity
when the sleeping awoke to disengage-
Watch the unseen leaping unheard
-M. Taggart
If I write I do not starve. I am fulfilled, satisfied; my soul is at peace. To keep it from me stirs something within me which is unwell. It is best to feed the peace.
-M. Taggart
Sent from my iPhone
I can feel words
I hear their voices
And know who they are
-M. Taggart
a young boy watches his reflection in a small pool of water. he wants to say hello, how are you. instead he says nothing. he sees his reflection say nothing back. blocked is a horrifying feeling when you see the words and the everything so easily and it’s not so easy too. cars pass by. some swerve slightly to avoid what they think is a dead animal near the road. the boy doesn’t mind the cars. at least they have a voice.
-M. Taggart
copyright 2017
When you live with lots happening you can write about the lots. When you live with little happening you can write truly.
I feel something in my head. I’m sorry. To my family, I’m sorry. It’s there and I cannot help but acknowledge. It’s a metallic twisting that’s working itself into pain. I chew on this pain best I can. I watch them move their mouth and I hear the words and the twisting continues. I try and identify with what I have nearest to me. If only to rest my mind. It does not work. I open my palms and ask them why. A voice tells me to calm and to understand. It’s my voice.