In 10 years

In 10 years who will you be?
That's a question I get asked often.

They all expect me to say some elaborate dream but I don't think I have an elaborate dream,
I think maybe once I did,
but that was before the self-harm and the eating disorder,
before the alcohol and the weed and everything else that was piled on top of me.

In 10 years I would like to believe I made it out,
but that is just a fantasy and fantasies are dangerous,
I know that now and I also know there's no way out.
No hand guiding me to the light,
No one on the other side,
There's nobody.

And in 10 years, I'll be nothing more than a distant memory in the lives of those around me
And maybe if I'm lucky enough,
They will talk about me as if I was one of the great's
But I don't believe in luck.