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.