Sierra Mazzucca's Poetry site

I’m more aware of catching myself when I start to spin these days. More so than I used to be, before I started self-healing through therapy and taking accountability. Now, I don’t follow shadows to dark places willingly. I stay away from holes where evil is surely waiting for me. Light is my shield, and faith my cape. No weapon shall be formed against me is the energy today. Being human and flawed sometimes feels daunting for just a spec of existence like me. Yet. I can’t escape it. It’s like a dark pit, my thoughts love to play in. The what if game , and If only phrases. Like if only I could be mentally content, instead of feeling like a psychiatric patient on the lamb again. I take the western potion doses they say, to “stay regulated”, because you know that chemical imbalance they found is a bit resilient to the scripts that they give out. My sleep is more than interrupted now. And then did you know statistics read that depression is not completely hereditary, but epigenetic is a big part of it somehow. Which means if a child is exposed to violence and pain night after night, fear undoubtedly will crawl into their mind, and find dark corners to wait and hide. Creating a monster called depression who slowly eats you alive as it silently devours and festers all your bright inside. But If I can grow it in the dark, then I can also expose it to lignt . Which means there is hope for healing, even in places where darkness waits and lies.

By Sierra Mazzucca

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