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.

  • The pruning

    There have been moments in my life where the lights are on but, I’m not home.

    And most the time you’d never know.

    As the landscaping is manicured to the T.

    So no one questions regarding my internal upkeep.

    Which is why external beauty is an essential need for me to further deceive.

    Because if the outside looks pretty, they wont focus on the occupant, this skin sack keeps.

    They are blinded by the bedazzled image their eyes meet.

    They assume the inside is just as shiny prim, and neat.

    Oh boy what a lie most of us keep.

    So close to the soul windows, past where vision and creativity meet.

    Having beauty on the outside, still doesn’t make the inside a warm and pretty place to be.

    I have got years of ugly lies rotting and waiting to be pruned from my mind. Before I can get comfortable enough in my skin to actually invite someone else in.

    So I am working on pruning and remodeling my insides.

    I knocked down a few walls to reduce corners for ugliness to hide. Reminder, this isn’t a self help project that has a near end or foreseeable deadline.

    Mending the mind takes time.

    Changing behaviors, and patterns, doesn’t happen overnight.

    Remember, even if you have the best looking lawn, your insides may still be a wretched and vile swamp.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • Thought escapee

    Most times I can’t process a thought quick enough when I am up, and that’s when things start to build up.

    They conveniently pop up when I am in bed, trying to close my eyes for a night’s rest.

    They are all up, congregating ,smoking cigs in a circle, all in full conversation.

    While Working on more ways to stock pile useless thoughts in an already overcrowded space.

    But I am running low in this place.

    Now, I am up with these thoughts’ day after day.

    I stay up late while they take turns to sit on my couch individually.

    Because at night is the only time they seem to come from the dark and scream at me.

    It feels like they are on silent mode, all day collecting Until I am in a vulnerable state.

    Then they turn on the neon sign, which welcomes every single thought I can gather from the day.

    And one by one they come from a line, to express their ideas and opinions of mine.

    I listen, take notes, and give advice most of the time.

    But it doesn’t seem to stick, because they keep making appointments, and none of them skip.

    I have labeled these sessions the daytime confessions of little thought escapees.

    Even though they show up every night, it’s my choice to open that door and welcome them inside.

    But I know if I ignore them, they will stack up in size.

    Then one day, they leak out and into my everyday life.

    Causing friction in places I now need to wear slip grip slides.

    I think the face to thought process at night, has been making progress in certain areas.

    Specifically with sleep, where I have been deprived.

    I won’t complain today, because instead of 8, I get 5-6 hours a night.

    Now when I wake up, I feel a little lighter every time.

    I now try to process and address what I am able to without losing sleep or getting stressed, and then I say goodnight.

    Though a lie would be that this process is easy and I get it right every time, but I don’t.

    Today, I just acknowledge what I can, without losing more sleep and my mind.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • Light image

    I was in the mirror more times than not. It’s Iike I was trying to find a reflection I had lost.

    Which is weird because most of my life, I disliked the image in the mirror that I saw.

    I swore at myself quite a lot.

    I even cried to GOD why he continues to watch me break apart. Berate myself, and break my own heart.

    really want to believe it’s his way of proving to me, that if I can’t find beauty in this body than how could someone else, or anybody?

    He does love me, but needed me to love me.

    Especially if I wanted to be able to accept another human’s love, for me.

    I practiced looking at my reflection through his eyes that he lent me.

    I saw a bright light that illuminated the darkest of spaces, and it was radiating from my heart of all places.

    Me, a simple basic being, a house for light?

    That is the vision of me, he sees?

    I was baffled, this can’t be.

    I always envisioned a cloud hovering over me just darkness, bleak.

    Now I see it wasn’t the cloud I should have been looking for.

    but the rainbow that came after the storm restored the desolate places that always yearned for more.

    I am still not perfect but when I see my reflection I no longer curse it and finally without harsh judgement, I observe it.

    I see beauty where I never could, not perfection because no human is perfect.

    I never lost my reflection like I once believed.

    He helped me clean my mirror so I could finally see my reflection without deception.

    From those carnival mirrors to a clear image of one restored and resurrected.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • Memory cannibal

    Reoccurring episodes when my spirit and mind, are in fight or flight. I recognize and identify in moments where I feel completely blank inside. It’s my body’s way of reminding me to unplug, just take a break. Things are overloading, I need to mentally and spiritually escape. Detach and let go of everything, especially from those moldy framed memories. Clear my plate full of moments, where I’d rather not hold space. A mental memory cannibal is who I may need to feed. It would have been a bigger memory feast, if I didn’t start those sessions sponsored by an MFT. And before I learned to appreciate the undoing of the override, built by some old version of me. I am allowing the Indulgence and consumption of those poisonous memory plates. Right from off my table of shame. Feasts of anger, sadness and pain. From a past that serves no source of fulfillment for this version of me today. This process takes place quietly, beneath the skin, bone and tissue. It’s more of a spiritual and mental misuse issue . I am sure my consciousness is trying to take care of me, as it turns on the exterior autopilot & power save mode intermittently. Which works at protecting the positive good memories, from being sorted plated, and digested, pointlessly. Helping prevent episodes where fight or flight are the only options I see. Because when I have too much on my plate, it becomes daunting and too heavy a task to overtake. So my body’s override sorts every memory good or bad inside. It plates everything, and that’s where we get to decide, do we want to keep feeding our spirit sadness anger and lies, or memories that support hope growth and peace inside. Your choice. Dinners at 5

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • I wanna be ok

    I might lose you here. But who are you anyways? I want ME to be OK. Like actually. Not like that fake it to you make it poster in therapy. You know next to the one of a cat dangling on a branch saying, “hang in there”, ironically. I want to be happy like physically, mentally and, emotionally congruently. Not stuck In the same reoccurring woe is me poopy loop, of why them and not me boohoos. Feels like healing is always two steps forward, just to get kicked back three steps, mentally. I’m tired of my stinking thinking, 50 outta 50. I just wish when I slept that it was actual rest, instead of some torture dungeon Inside my head. Viciously beating my spirit through my chest. All these thoughts I bred, while trying to release the, “ I don’t need ”, with the claw machine I built inside me, using my tools from therapy. Who am I and why am I not 100% OK. Because I want to be OK. I want to be genuinely happy. I want to see what you see. I never in my life understood the line , I am happy to be me. Because I didn’t and still don’t have anything but ego and a personality. that was tailored and fitted to me. All because that’s what they told me. and what was I to compare it to, if that was the only me I ever knew. It’s strange, that I am everything I think I am because, I listened to the description of the character I fit into for them. I just want to be OK. not for your role, but for my sanity’s sake. But who am I, If I am not me? And what does OK actually mean if OK is based off of someone else’s self-evaluation. but they too don’t know themselves. Ohh, that’s confusing. How would I ever know if I am happy as myself within myself if I have never met anyone who has ever been themselves? I just want to be me. I just want to be happy, and the most genuine version, this body mind and soul can be.

    Sierra Mazzucca

  • Slow down, show grace

    Hi, if I could give you some advice, be kinder to yourself and slowdown in life. This is not a race. I can surely promise you rushing doesn’t mean you win a medal or first place. Even with you stressing, it’s all going to take just as long as it wants to take. So enjoy, and embrace. The meeting you are running late to, will still be there, and you in just a few. The light that skipped your turn, it can’t hear or understand the energy you pointlessly exert, while throwing your hands up with lots of cuss words. Your kid’s not gonna melt if you’re 2 minutes there after the bell. Your laundry that you penciled in for 12pm, well that too can wait there friend. You assume these minutes in the future you will meet. You forget not everything on the list we make, gets to be marked complete. You feel if you are not doing something all the time for that list, that we are lazy and worthless. My goodness! do you now see, that’s only ever been in your mind, it was never reality. Seriously, stop thinking it’s exhausting. And this is from me to me. You are more than those flaws only you can see. Or the check marks missing on the lists you keep, just to torture yourself for the ones you could never mark complete. You look great, so stop looking in every mirror to find something more to hate. You got glasses, but your vision and perception still are not that great. Keep working on yourself, don’t ever take a break. Slow down though. be kind, and just show yourself some grace.

    Sierra Mazzucca

    #poet #Grace #poetry

  • Membership revoked

    I hadn’t thought about you in some time because I tried so hard to evict you from my mind. I worked on trying to lend others my time. Instead of trying different ways to rewind our line. I just don’t want us to go back in time. So down memory lane alone, am I. I need to remember what grabbed my attention, what made me fall so hard for the same type. With you things felt different, you made me feel so warm at times. It could be because, you are a ball of fire. Your soul illuminates’ life, where death surely transpires. Your vibrations create ballads of soul notes sung by angelic choirs. But there is poison lurking behind your heart. As beautiful as you seem, you are just as dark. We started so bright, but then began to fall and so did our light. I tried increasing my spirit lumens, but nothing could ever fill the hole you carved into the depths of my mind, not even light. I allowed you a space inside, but not to fill it with lie after lie. I dreamed of us night after night. You were on this pedestal I kept pushing up, further into the sky. Always leaving myself behind because I believed you needed more than I could ever supply. That love I gave you , yeah that what was mine. The throne I loaned you, well you had your time. Your membership to my hippocampus has been revoked, bye bye.

    Sierra Mazzucca

    #poet #poetry #lapoet #love #lust

  • Love the idea

    Sometimes, not all the time, I wish I could’ve loved you and that it would have been enough for me to stay around to lift you up. I know everyone deserves that support, it just couldn’t be that way for us. Probably because all I ever seen when I looked at you was a past I didn’t want back. You broke pieces of me, and brought out a version of me that you could easily control and defeat. So I pushed that identity off a ledge somewhere in the past, where I fought to leave you be, and erase the old path. Preventing her existence from ever traveling back to me. I always told you I’d be honest, even if it hurt. Though I am not a sadist, so I’ll try to not make this sting or burn. When it comes to giving love that part of your body just doesn’t seem to work. Too many pieces are missing or they have been cauterized and burned. It’s clear you are broken, and very deeply hurt. I kept trying to fill an empty skin sacks insatiable appetite of, ME ME ME. Forgetting who comes first, me. The irony is you pushed me so far in, I learned why I choose people who can never love or commit. because the same pieces they were looking for, I too was missing. So yeah, sometimes not all the time, I wish I could’ve loved you. But there were too many broken pieces and not enough wholes. I hope you find all the pieces you lost. i hope you find everything to make yourself whole.

    Sierra Mazzucca

    #poet #poetry #lapoet

  • Universal communication

    Meaningful patterns of significance and circumstances, that’s what life is made up of. No happen chances. The universe wants to talk to you. We have been so intent on looking for coincidences that we almost always lose the ability to see or hear what it is telling us to do. All the energy we use is given to us, just to transmute. It acts as the universes fuel and my soul food. So when we learn to communicate with it, our lives will start to shift significantly, indefinitely, almost immediately. Like every sense is awake and aware. As you change your way of thinking, you will start to see the exchange has always been there, we just blocked that road off from any form of communicating. It was on a different frequency than you or I were allowing our vibrations to reach. When your awareness is clear you become open minded. You begin to experience your existence, without feeling like you need to find the coincidences. The overall picture is ever changing but remains vivid and clear. The skeleton and skin holding together your life system relies on practiced muscle memory to not be forgotten. Similar to the line I keep open to receive . I finally learned how to communicate effectively, with the patterns the universe lays out in front of me. When the universe talks, I listen attentively. Weightless energy, I let the wind blow me in whichever direction it sees fit for me. I can only hope we never stop communicating in this soul language, the universe interprets through me.

    Sierra Mazzucca

    #poet #poetry #universal

    #inspire #freedom

  • Psyche cataloging

    I drift off sometimes and lose track of time. Where I misplace seconds and minutes that turn into hours of separation from my consciousness, and I. I would wonder what the cause of this was. So I mentioned it to Mr. M., and he said it’s the separation from union, known as Disassociation. That’s where you detach from your thoughts, feelings and memories. Like you go off into some blank place where there is no active energy. Just still, absent, floating. Yeah, that sounds like what I have been experiencing. I’ve been sorting through the facts and fibs scattered within the psyche catalog I have been keeping. Determining which memories were actuality, fever dreams, or scenes from old movies and shows I had seen. But no, they were chapters from a life I was trying to forget, desperately and quietly . So much so I mastered the art of being here, but not mentally. I don’t remember how old I was when I created a space within myself, where I would go when my consciousness felt inundated and overwhelmed. It worked well for many years. I could just stare off into the abyss, and forget the present, the here, the everything, I wasn’t . But that person is no longer me, and that process has no positive benefits for the next volume of this journey. So I may drift, only now I am aware and I notice it . I catch it, and reprocess it. I refuse to allow anymore of my time living, to be missed.

    Sierra Mazzucca

    #poet #poetry #lapoet #mentalhealth

    #growth