by Emma McIntyre

[Content warning: suicide]

Dear fellow traveller,

Here’s to my being long departed by the time you read this.

Would you spite me if I told you that I am afraid of change?
Not that it matters now, mind you.
I ask, for this morning I watched as the last ship moored at the harbour
And I lamented,
Because unlike me, that ship had an anchor and someone to guide it.
– It is not your time, the tide called.
But the thoughts were unabating, and I ignored it. 

If I board, will I survive the journey?
If I stay, will the grey skies temper my courage?
Who am I to ask? You can’t hear me…

Have mercy on me, rough and rowdy waves,
Momma said being here was enough for today.

Samaritans: 116 123