There’s a certain serenity
in a person about to jump.
I’d seen it before, driving
across the Coronado bridge
just in time to watch someone
contemplate the depths
of the water below,
then change their mind.
I knew what they were thinking,
which I guess some would attribute
to a sort of time travel,
my future self already present
in me. I now watched myself
walk to the edge of a different bridge,
my eyes floating somehow
outside my body. Like that person,
the corners of my own mouth
as I walked along this bridge
pointed upwards, as though buoyed
by the clouds. Perhaps this is
what kept me alive.
Just as I was about to step
onto the ledge, someone
approached me with a pamphlet.
Do you have a moment?
They monologued about God,
and though I’ve never been religious,
all I can say is I’m still alive today.
Anastasia DiFonzo (she/her) is a San Diego based poet with two cats, Klaus and Lucy. Her work can be found in Anti-Heroin Chic’s April 2021 issue.
