I am relieved to
think about this, to say
out loud

that killing myself
trying to survive
while doing the work

might be the greatest service
I could offer the world, and while
I have thought it before

with a hint of self-pity
and bizarre hope of help
from others who somehow

understood me better than 
I knew myself without my saying
a word, tonight I say it

feeling the shortness of time
in this dimming world, the urgency
of the need to push myself 

by wish and will into danger
and depth — and if only the 
work survives the plunge,

so be it. Let there be
an end to me in service
to seeking the good 

and drawing it to the surface
from the cold wrong
we are drowning in today.

Let me sink away if what rises
from where I sink floats,
high and bright, above the tides.