Sierra Mazzucca's Poetry site

I ask to be Free.

From a prisoner of me.

Free from being stuck in a mental loop of looking for spiritual peace.

All within the most chaotic parts in me.

That I work hard to keep unseen.

Usually I’d hide behind your masks, but they no longer fit me.

Beauty is quickly fading, the masks are showing flaws I kept hid.

Slowly re-growing muscles where the atrophy of despair, weakened my body.

I won’t let any of those messages back…Not inside me.

Though I can’t say anything is for certain, as I am not he.

But I refuse to wear a mask attached to shackles, when I claim to be free.

I pray daily that I awake without the pain of needing to control everything.

Including the timeframe for which I gave my spirit, to find peace for this soul that energizes me.

I measured it, like it would be that easy to achieve.

Or that these bent knee and elbow sessions would eventually find your ears to reach.

Then maybe you can deliver me from me.

Or at least from the whispers of old chatter that beat me invisibly.

Usually when I am sick because, ego is a coward and needs me weak.

So it can continue push lies in for me to believe.

But I told you before you can do what you want but you cant take my will from me.

I asked to be free, but now I ask to set you free.

While I am trying to heal, you keep wounding me.

Trying to keep me, desperate and weak.

But I will never back down, no more hiding behind masks you made for me.

Time to do some un-brainwashing of old beliefs and a scrubbing of my ego-system.

Before it slowly destroys me.