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