Sierra Mazzucca's Poetry site

Returning back to previous state would be a dream if I were a butterfly, with wings that could carry me far away. From the beginning point where anguish became my cape, unable to fly, too heavy was my hearts weight. I got stuck, I couldn’t move. I was forced to face the cocoons dark space. It was time with no face before I broke free and shed the comfort that restored me. Or so I thought, but the want for restoration is the first box to check off. There are many exits and check points along the way. Despair waits like a stop sign at an all 4 way. Sometimes you hang there a little too long, you slowly forget that you can choose to move on. You get comfortable with everything going wrong, so you unconsciously manifest it all to prolong. Preventing the freedom, you once blocked yourself from. The one you convinced yourself you didn’t deserve because you made an internal agreement, that was never actually yours. You have and always had the ability to decide which way to go, which weighted belief to hold onto and which to toss aside. Like the caterpillar shedding its chrysalis, who shelters it through the changes for many nights until the last stage of histogenesis the process where the body reorganizes its Insides. It doesn’t ever return back to its previous state but after the hard transition a beautiful butterfly will take its place.

By Sierra Mazzucca