This Side

It's kind of funny for me to be on this side of the line
                              this time.
For me to be the one looking down at the paper
in front of me.
It's hard to believe that I'm the one
who now has to hear the lines,
the rules, the words.
I was a Peer Counselor before,
and I remind talking a friend out of suicide.
At the time, I couldn't imagine his view,
what it was like.
I can't now, either, even though
I'm the one being talked to.

If I had told myself,
          a month ago,
that I would soon be considering something
                    such as this,
I would have scoffed.
I would have been disbelieving -
          - then shocked.

I'm not shocked now.
Even when I'm not in the midst of one of these moods,
When I'm not being overtaken by these feelings,
          I am surprised, though.
I'm surprised that it's me.
I'm surprised that it's the same person.
When I'm not feeling in that way,
I can't conceive what it would be like
          to even consider suicide seriously.

Am I serious?
I don't know.
Is this a cry for help?
Perhaps.
Maybe the part of me that strongly opposes this,
          that shakes at the very thought of such a thing
          is reaching out.
Maybe the part of me that doesn't want to die
          is trying to fight
          the part of me that does.