One Year
By LuLu 10/23/25
I was four years lost in a smoke-stained dream,
sold my soul for a hit, forgot what life means.
Slept on concrete, cold as my bones,
hunger in my gut, pain deep in my tone.
Friends turned ghosts, love turned to lies,
watched my hope burn right before my eyes.
Got hit, got robbed, got left for dead,
but the spark of “me” never fully fled.
One day I broke, said “fuck this life,”
sick of the dope, the pain, the strife.
Sweated it out, screamed through the ache,
rebuilt my soul from all my mistakes.
Now I’m one year clean, one year reborn,
still got scars but I’m done being torn.
I eat, I sleep, I pray, I grow,
I’m learning peace a life the pipe don’t know.
I’m not that weak person that meth made me be,
I’m the victorious warrior that fought to get free.
Took back my power, my name, my flame,
one year clean — and proud of the pain.