one day

one day, i won't wake up with an ache pulsing where my heartbeat should be.

one day, i won't struggle against the suffocating weight of fear to get out of bed.

one day, my hands won't tremble pouring the coffee.

one day, i won't nearly drop the mug when a sudden noise, though harmless, makes me jump.

one day, it won't feel like a boa constrictor wraps around my stomach every time a car with an engine just a little too loud passes by on my street.

one day, i'll be able to step outside without the fear that you will find me, though i'm hundreds of miles away now.

one day, i will look at myself in the mirror without seeing the ghosts of the havoc you wreaked upon my soul.

one day, i will be able to breathe.

one day.