The day I was Saved by an Evangelist by Anastasia DiFonzo

c/w: suicide attempt

Breakfast was three spoonfuls of Nutella.

I hadn’t done dishes in over a month.

There was a spot of dried cat puke on the couch.

I spent the day sitting on it and staring

at a mostly-empty fifteen-dollar bottle of red

on the table. I don’t really have a table,

just some slabs of Ikea wood piled

against a window so I can pretend

to like the sun sometimes. Instead

of going outside, I bought some D

supplements when the doctor explained

I needed the vitamin, not the body part.

I got a contraceptive shoved

up my vagina anyway, hoping my lack of will

to live was purely the result of too much

estrogen. But I had been off the pill for weeks,

so I couldn’t blame the excess hormones

for pushing me right up to the edge

of the bridge at Balboa Park. All I wanted

was a long walk to clear my head,

then I was hunched over the ledge

meant to keep the innocent from falling,

but not tall enough to prevent the rest of us

from jumping. The 163 freeway was to my right,

and some shrubbery to my left.

In the event of it being necessary,

I would have to jump as far to the left

as possible to ensure no unsuspecting

drivers got injured. I leaned further, just to see

(I swear), when a person materialized, seemingly

from thin air, and asked if they could talk

to me about God. I figured why not

and shifted my weight away from the ledge.

The conversation itself was lost on me

as I am a staunch agnostic, but I’ll admit

I somehow made it home safe that night.

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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 and Gnashing Teeth Publishing. She is on Instagram at @anastasia.difonzo.