Sierra Mazzucca's Poetry site

You made me feel weak.

No, I didn’t.

Yes, you did!

You tried to think a way out of everything.

That wasn’t your responsibility.

All because you felt my other parts couldn’t handle things.

You even made me run, when an escape wasn’t necessary.

Well, I thought I was being supportive.

No. I felt anything but comforted.

I actually felt targeted.

You only ever worked me up.

Preferred my panties in a bunch.

Played pretend, like it was me.

Convinced me that I had bad luck.

But it was you!

Your beliefs, casted spells over us.

Yes I was bound, but you’re the one who tied me up.

I had to always compete with the ideas you made up.

Convincing me to believe I had no room for love.

Not to give or receive.

You were all the negative parts that bombarded me.

You never had anything decent to say about the changes I pushed for us to make.

You claimed they were never of any benefit for you.

Funny cause, you are I , and I am you and this is we.

But I digress.

Why do you prefer me on my knees?

With rivers of regret rolling down my face uncontrollably?

Why can’t I release your grip of control over me?

I don’t want to feel weak because I know, I’m stronger than you’ve convinced me to believe.

I don’t need your negative nonsense.

Off key tuning.

I am prepared for change.

But you can keep your two cents.

Your opinion is loud and broke.. now no one listens.

You have been an infection, no help to me.

Your existence doesn’t make me feel well.

You have a tendency to cripple me and convince me I am better off alone, than with anyone else.

Which is where the lie started that I began to tell myself.

I would stare in the mirror and still couldn’t see past the distorted image you programed my eyes to retrieve.

You resembled a black hole, just kept taking.

But, I’m your heart.

Yeah, you are.

But instead of beating to live, you choose to beat me.

Stopped me from many moments I could have been happy.

No, I protected you.

Wrong, you exploited me to see what would happen.

Took my yearning to be loved, just to form a weapon against me.

I think I can handle things from here, indefinitely.

You are not my physician, so stop trying to diagnose and prescribe useless prescriptions.

You are assigned systemic circulation. Pressure Maintenance.

Not the doom seeker of every situation.

Do you hear me?

You made me feel weak.

Opposite of your assigned duty to me.

Your responses were never clearly received.

They just kept me reliant on the poison you chose to pump through my body.

I was upset that my own heart could be so deceiving.

Ultimately, it was my choice to run with your plays.

I gave you so much control over this domain.

and look at the mess you made out of my faith, in your name.

I am not weak.

You are not all of me.

But you will always be an important piece of me.

I just don’t need your unnecessary commentary.

I got it, and you got me.