What do I see when I look to the future?

Is it bright?

Or is dark and clouded in inky black waves?

There was a time,

When I couldn’t see me living past eighteen,

That I had no future or dreams,

What he did,

Ripped a whole in the fabric of me,

But now,

I see myself in ten years dancing and having fun,

Maybe married,

No kids,

A nice house and a lot of cats,

A husband or wife who likes me for me,

But mostly,

I see me moving on my trauma,

I got to where I wanted to be,

In ten years time,

I hope I have healed enough,

In ten years time,

I hope I am still acting and doing Eveything I love,

I can see myself being here in ten years time.

And it is glorious