The future used to play in my mind
like a movie reel.
One month the story would unfold one way,
the next month, another.
The future felt limitless,
but always bright.
Now the movie reel’s stopped playing.
I see my future
through a blurry window after a hurricane,
mud-streaked, dust-covered, rain-soaked,
or driving through a dense fog,
not sure which way the road is turning,
or if I’m headed straight into a ditch.
Everything’s uncertain and scary.
All the things I used to want
no longer matter.
I hold on tightly to this roller-coaster ride,
and remind myself to keep breathing.
If I can just breathe,
this fear might turn into exhilaration,
and this ride might be a hell of a lot more fun.