LTosing a year of your life is hard. For some, it's a year staring down the end of a bottle. For others, it's a drug bender that makes the days fly away like on a paper calendar. For me, it was 365 days inside a concrete box for getting caught in a sting.he Lost Year
Ianhabited, then shed. A role, a name.m gift, now curse, and medicine held close.
Week calls and sweet milk to screams, where fear roots -
here once was pride, shame replaces, guard to edge -
Somehow it comes back around, I feel drained, I feel lonely, isolated from my surroundings. I know it’s healthy, I know it’s part of healing. But still I feel resentful. I started the day with joy, now I’m muddled with heavy shit. I know I’m free, yet I feel restrained.