Hi, I’m Sierra Mazzucca. I want to welcome to my little corner of the internet—where words find their way through the heart’s tangled paths. This blog is home to poetry born from the quiet and loud moments of life. I write to give shape to what we often struggle to say—grief, love, healing, hope, faith, and the simple weight of everyday experience. Whether you’re navigating mental health challenges, processing loss, celebrating love, or searching for something deeper, I hope my words meet you where you are. Each poem is a reflection, a release, a reminder that you’re not alone. Thank you for being here.

  • Stay in your place

    Seriously.
    Why won’t you leave permanently?
    You have never made me feel strong like I can do anything.
    You only ever wanted me down and blue.
    I tried to change you.
    I did stuff that could heal you.
    But you are so intent, on making me feel see-through.
    I went to the man with a degree to silence your mockery.
    He prescribed a pill that would rid you from me.

    I was so hopeful, that I believed you would actually leave.
    But no matter the name of the pill he prescribed, you wouldn’t go away.
    You were attached me.
    The pills made you laugh, but you were very mad at the fact I was trying to detach you from me.
    I decided if the scripts won’t work, then I have to fight you.
    ME to Me.
    To reclaim my peace.
    That you just won’t allow me to keep.

    Since I was a child all you did was control me.
    Tell me untrue things to get a tighter hold on me.
    Tell me everything bad, to feel alone and lonely.
    But you are a liar, and I no longer believe.
    You have done damage, I am now repairing.
    You are vile and scary.
    Don’t think I forgot all the times, you persuaded me I was better off disappearing.
    I was only a child when you said life is better without me.

    As you controlled my head with the lies you pushed me to believe.
    But I am grown now, and I have tools to protect me.
    You can visit, but I made an exit for you to leave.
    Go left.
    I’m not asking. I’m telling.
    I’m tired of being scared of what you have in store next for me.

    I am a human with feelings.
    And I deserve to be free, and happy.
    I will not allow you to control, continue to defile my spirit, mind and body.
    You may be part of me currently.
    But you will never have all of me, not permanently.
    Stay in your place, before I find a pill to make you defenseless, and happy for the rest of me.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • Hard words to find

    Its still awkward to brag about my accomplishments.
    Even though I have been through so much, and made art out of it.
    My creations are in many collections.
    Still I never thought of myself as someone who was worthy enough to brag about what I have done.

    It’s not like I am a brain surgeon saving lives.
    I just write about how I am feeling or how I have felt at one point in time.
    So to see my pieces on pages in many different anthologies, it actually makes me proud of me.
    Which is surprising.
    I am no one special, and may never be.
    But I started posting to bring awareness to unspoken things.

    All I ever wanted was for others to read and feel something in each piece.
    I wanted people to be able to find the words they were missing.
    Pieces that helped them move past things. Knowing they are not alone, and there are words to describe their feelings.

    I don’t want to be famous, but I want my words to travel across the seas.
    I want people who are in dark caves to find light in my writing.
    I want the girl who has been hiding to find shelter within my words, because comfort is what she deserves.

    I want to write to heal the broken hearts, the lonely spirits, and lost souls who don’t know who they are.
    I hope my words can be bridges for people to their hearts.
    I just want people to know they are not alone, and there is purpose within their scars.

    Life is so hard, sometimes even a smile can warm the coldest of hearts.
    I’ve written pieces when I was in pieces.
    I shared them with the world, hoping it reaches anyone who is in need.
    With a message that spoke courage and planted a seed.

    Life happens, and my pen takes action.
    I don’t want fame.
    I just want my words to make a difference, in someone else’s day.
    Maybe change another’s life.
    Because some words are hard to find, and even harder to say.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • 3 F’s to give

    I started my day with three F’s to give.
    And before half the day in, I ran out of all of them.
    Why? I keep asking.
    My feedback loop insisted on pain and suffering.
    Our brains cant tell the difference between physical and mental pain.
    That’s how strong the brain and mind are at this thinking game.
    Problems are necessary.
    Pain is needed.
    Suffering is optimal, to tell us limits have been exceeded.
    Whether mentally or physically.
    The solution to one problem creates a new problem for everybody.
    That’s the living.
    Happiness comes from solving problems.
    It’s a form of action.
    A constant work in progress.
    True Happiness occurs when you find the problems to solve them.
    Only to create more problems for you to resolve and then more to generate.
    Choosing what struggles are worth it to you, that is what I call individuality.
    Push into hard times instead of pulling away, as one would naturally.
    Remember the pain, the discomfort, the want to overcome,
    they help us practice living.
    Not a single one of us is excused from experiencing suffering.
    When do we realize we are not unique?
    We are not special and we don’t have to be the very best at everything.
    We need struggle, pain, and stress.
    Because if no problems are found, then what’s there to address?
    With so many hours in a day.
    Solving them creates a happiness.
    Suffering without purpose is pain.
    Worrying about things that don’t matter is a waste of space.
    Recognize it’s inevitable to live without feeling bad some days.
    And knowing hard times and stress won’t ever go away.
    Because humans need friction to exist.
    When you understand that, then you get to choose which struggles matter.
    And which to not waste one of your 3 F’s that you give a day.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • yearly Return

    Oh no…
    April, please don’t go.
    I know May is knocking, anxious to come in.
    While June is stalking, eagerly waiting to begin its torment.
    Please don’t leave me alone with them, again.
    The 6th month has been waiting to break me in.

    The pain arrives start of April, until after her birthday ends.
    The sadness never goes away.
    It still hurts but it lessens, for three hundred and sixty-five days.
    Until April comes back around to show its face.
    Only to leave me alone with an empty ache after its 30th day.
    This year it tried to really make me believe that I am weak.
    And the pain I am feeling will never completely leave.
    That may be true.
    No matter how many bent knee and elbow sessions I call upon to relieve me of this grief, my heart will always have a space for you.It is just the strengthening part that hurts me to the point I am still a little angry.
    To believe after all this suffering, something beautiful will come to be.
    A testament to my faith in the one who knows what is good for me.
    Learning grief can never have a deadline.
    Never shows an ending.
    I just have to learn to abide, quietly. Respectfully.
    But from April to June 29th, I need a little extra hand holding.
    To support me through, my soul strengthening.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • Why does it matter

    None of it matters.
    Not in a morbid way.
    But we are all performers in the existence of the human play.

    We come and go.
    Like stars, there is no permanency.
    Still even knowing this we choose to limit our visions.
    We stray from spontaneity to embrace rigid rules someone wrote in invisible ink.

    We are born with playful souls.
    We carry that energy through childhood.
    Until the day we are told we need grow, we need to plan A-Z.
    We need to start causing ourselves anxiety.
    Worrying about who we will be. Carefully.
    As if seriousness was virtue to humanity.

    Like it’s the key to living.
    But we stop living free, to become tied up.
    Anxious, overworked in a weak human body. That even quicker fades when it’s put under stress and has unattainable expectations many have died to see met.

    We make up what is OK and what is not.
    Only to break made up rules we follow, because that’s what we were taught.
    But why?
    Why do we exist, if not to enjoy all of it?
    With no limits.
    Even the universe enjoys its existence like a free kid.

    Bursting stars, rushing waves to shores. Chasing clouds with wind.
    When did we become ok with no longer being free to exist just as is.
    With no need for an explanation, like children.

    We started placing time to hold ourselves accountable for reaching stressful goals.
    And for no real reason.
    Just because we were shown one way and they called it freedom.
    And if we wanted it, we would do as we were told.

    But None of it matters when we’re done.
    The stressing over who you will become.
    The guilt over what you haven’t done.
    None of it.
    Its all unnecessary suffering.
    If we can just capture the same free energy as the child, before they were told what their limits would be.

    Then the world would be full of curiosity, freedom.
    And many more souls would be free without boundaries.
    It matters but, not the way we were taught to believe.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • Inhale Peace and Exhale Pain

    Inhale peace. Hold. Exhale pain.

    Repeat.

    That’s been my mantra recently.

    The way my body was treating me, it was so unhappy with me.

    Almost like I with my own hands was scrambling my nerve endings.

    Because no one could help me.

    They said it was only me who could stop the pain.

    No medication would work for me.

    All I wanted was for a moment to mediate the obvious debate between my mind, spirit and body.

    I learned to be grateful for even the seconds of peace I received.

    Because hours of physical torture, feels soul defeating.

    But things I have been holding onto, I am now releasing .

    Many memories of pain I kept deep.

    Which is probably why it hurt so much when each one was released.

    Just bad memories with no good place to go inside me.

    My body had finally freed them from the

    darkness my light hides.

    And all at once, those wounds lit me up,

    like the 4 of July.

    My body was on fire, and it wanted me to ask why.

    Everything I held onto, grew and mutated into the most painful aches a body should take.

    And all in silence.

    But I needed to feel this pain.
    It humbled me, because I thought I got away.
    But like they say, everything you do in the dark
    Finds the light of day.

    My body will eventually pay the price for all the pain I shoved away.

    I now understand the value in feeling, dealing and releasing.

    Especially if the issue is not mine.

    Inhale peace. Hold. Exhale pain.

    Repeat.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • Summon peace

    Sleep,why have you yet to find me?

    I sent you numerous messages.

    But you still haven’t replied back to me.

    Left on read.

    Even so, I am where we usually meet.

    My body lies flat on top of clean sheets, with eyes shut, waiting patiently.

    It’s been weeks since we spoke.

    Have you too lost interest in me?

    I wouldn’t be surprised.

    Humans ruin everything.

    This body stores so much pain.

    That has finally made its debut appearance, externally.

    It’s hurting.

    As I expected years of torment kept, would be.

    But It has not done any good festering internally.

    So my spirit made the decision to start dealing with all of it permanently.

    With that comes temporary pain, and lack of many z’s.

    So, I understand.

    Still it’s upsetting.

    I get teased with peace from pain.

    Hoping that this time it stays.

    Only to wake up worse than I felt yesterday.

    Like something is mad I felt that moment of ok.

    Pissed off, I was relinquished from aches for half a day.

    After no sleep for numerous weeks.

    Physical and mental beatings back-to-back concurrently.

    I’m still fighting with the light, that the darkness is trying to snub from me.

    It hurts, because I know the dark and the light, they’re both in me.

    The one hurting me.

    ME, Fighting, me.

    I’m the cause for my lack of sleep.

    And you’d think if I knew that, I’d stop begging for rest and release.

    Because if I can cause havoc, then I can easily summon peace.

    To allow my mind a break from running constantly.

    So my spirit doesn’t feel the need to call a timeout on sleeping, for healing Internal sores.

    Causing physical pain, unnecessarily.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • Prisoner of me

    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 to 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.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • Flattery?

    I guess I should take it as a form of flattery.

    but I’m also disgusted at the lack of creativity.

    It’s taken me years to form my own style, this identity.

    and here you come stealing my words and ideas for free.

    Prop me up to pretend I’m the inspiration for your new piece, when its pretty clear you stole from me.

    I don’t go around taking things that don’t belong to me.

    I especially don’t understand why you couldn’t just use your imagination to write something.

    My words. my pieces. my pictures.

    they have meaning for me.

    I take the pictures I use for each piece.

    I had to find my own style to write and way to share MY things.

    I’m just sad that people take from me.

    and then claim the work as their own.

    as if they didn’t steal my entire style of writing.

    Copy my blog almost exactly.

    Flattery or flat out copying?

    Whatever it is, it’s making me not want to post anything.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • last question

    I’m done asking what’s wrong with me.

    Or why is this happening.

    I’m exasperated by your lack of responses.

    Clearly you don’t care enough to answer me.

    Well not with spoken words, shall we play Pictionary?

    Are you even listening?

    I repent everything.

    Stop this weak body’s suffering.

    Punishment has been given.

    And is still being received.

    You think you can turn down the pain just a smidgen, so I can breathe?

    Honestly was it me?

    Like me solely?

    Did I hurt you?

    Were they my nails, they hammered through you?

    Or were they my measurements for the cross you were nailed to?

    Is that why I am experiencing this type of agony, no matter what I do?

    You gonna torture me, then tell me it wasn’t you?

    Attend my funeral like you didn’t just hit my end button, because you wanted to.

    I mean, you only created us to entertain you.

    So what happens when we go off of script and turn around and blame you?

    Do you untangle my strings, attached to you?

    What about when we realize we have only ever been controlled by you?

    Are you gonna throw a tantrum and proceed torturing my body like you do?

    Not maliciously, but Spiritually.

    Your physical torment serves as a reminder, to be grateful for when I’m pain-free.

    A refiner’s fire, to burn away the ego and increase spiritual peace.

    Pain is temporary.

    Faith is everlasting.

    Last question, why me?

    Sierra Mazzucca