It is such a Little thing to Weep, so
Short a thing to Sigh, and yet by Trades
The Size of these, we men & women Die²
I know a Hundred ways to Die I’ve often
Thought I’d Try one: Lie down Beneath a
Motor Truck some day when standing by one³
Why do I Overlive – Mocked with Death, and
Lengthened out to Deathless Pain? How Gladly
Would I meet Mortality, and be Earth Insensible!⁴
Poison is Life – so the Powerful Antidote is Death⁵
To Be, or Not to be? That is the Question: to Die –
‘Tis a Consummation devoutly to be Wished!⁶
Nothing is left for us but to Snuff ourselves
Out: to Shatter the Failed Formation of our
Life, Toss it at the feet of Snickering Gods⁷
Suicide is both so Easy and so Difficult: to
Commit it one must Stamp out this Native
Triumphance, either by training oneself to
Dehabilitate it – or by a Force of Ambush⁸
The skin of my Wrists are so Defenseless:
What I want to Kill is elsewhere, Deeper,
More Secret, a whole lot Harder to get at⁹
Suicide Note: the Calm, cool Face
Of the River asked me for a Kiss¹⁰
¹ David Foster Wallace, Suicide as a Sort of Present
² Emily Dickinson, It’s Such a Little Thing
³ Edna St. Vincent Millay, I Know a Hundred Ways to Die
⁴ John Milton, Paradise Lost
⁵ Nathaniel Hawthorne, Rappaccini’s Daughter
⁶ William Shakespeare, Hamlet
⁷ Hermann Hesse tr. Joachim Neugroschel, Siddhartha
⁸ Maggie Nelson, Bluets 138
⁹ Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
¹⁰ Langston Hughes, Suicide Note