Notes to a suicide at 26, Cyril Wong.
4
Tired of the smallness
of mercies, the deep pockets
of loneliness in the body
impossible to fill, despite
love's many gifts.
5
Nothing wrong with dying.
but with believing that life is always
meaningful, that meaning
is not a flame
we lit ourselves and may flicker.
6
Perhaps there is nothing heroic
about choosing life. To do so
may be the same
as picking an apple amongst apples
one morning at the market.
7
But then to carry on for those
who love me, and for myself, I
who may care enough to stay
amongst the living and the loved.