In Space - a poem of finding somewhere free from abuse

A poem written a year ago at a writing workshop.

The prompt was "You've blasted off into space. What do you see?"  We had three minutes to write from the prompt.

In space, you don't matter.
In space I'm the important one.
You, bacteria on the earth,
Are nothing to me.

I see you no more,
Fly from your foolish embraces
And leave you tied to ground,
Forced to live without dreams.

In space, I am in my dream.
I turn, exult, dance with grace.
No finger points to posture or
Slight dyspraxic inelegance;
Tumbles on dance floors.

There is no hurt, no scar, no memory of abuse.
In space, no one can hear me scream.
Which is fine.
In my celestial imagination
I no longer need to scream.