Sierra Mazzucca's Poetry site
A collection of poems
Author: Sierra
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Who am I? I don’t know, to be fair. I’ve been many different people in the past. So it’s hard for me to decipher which parts played were actually me and which versions were part of the act. I always try to be myself no matter the situation that I am dealt. Still, it’s challenging…
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I feel blank. like an 8 by 11 white page. A canvas waiting to be liberated from a plain purgatory space. It must be the new pills effect taking hold of me. Since my psych prescribed them to me 6 Tuesdays past yesterday. A change I’m told was to be expected by today. he is…
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I prayed for love. I prayed blindly. I wished on every star that my perfect person would find me. I blew every dandelion reinforcing my prayers, that I will find someone one day, who genuinely loves and cares. I never specified the appearance of The person of dreams. never thought a shooting star could bring…
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There is a monster in my bed. and I let him in. I supplied the pillow to rest. His quiet wickedness I don’t address.As he fondles my body while I lay still. Undressed. I don’t reciprocate his love, or affection.and he won’t allow me to stop it, or reject it. That must be his thrill.…
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Fear a distressed emotion brought on by the belief that something dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat will occur. It only gains strength when you feed it faith. Growing into an outrageous ember, igniting every corner of hope it’s flames chase. It’s the unconscious decision to give up and for lack of better…
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I’ll admit. that sometimes I still get. a little depressed. since I know everything, I have will one day come to its end. In any second. With any given breath. Which usually begs my question. have I done everything I can to make the time I occupied this skin resort I was lent, purposeful. or…
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I feel like I’m just floating through time like every moment exists on some line. déjà vu is just a tear in the thread that’s holding seconds collectively storing lifetimes from the beginning to the present. Like every single thing is accounted for on someone’s bulletin board. Each tragedy, catastrophe, blessing, and new planet-finding, was…
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Some internal construction is needed on isle brain. Something is jeopardizing the Cortico-Striato-Thalamo-Cortical aka (CSTC) circuitry. which is the key brain pathway participating in movement, habit formation, and reward processing. Okay, I say endangering but really its elevating. Like I’m starting to engage in different affairs. I started a new pathway and I haven’t needed…
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Most of my life I’ve tried to hide scars because they were ugly reminders of things I didn’t want to think about. And a lot of those scars were invisible to the naked eye. A human couldn’t see these are scars, similar to deep open wounds within me. I learned they are not damaged eye…
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Don’t wish you knew better, just do better now. Regret is a disease. Disease is a noun. Meaning to have a disorder of structure or function in a human, oh wow. I’ve somehow allowed this to consume my time and take away from my healing by moving forward, Eliminating the possibility of me being “just…
Sierra Mazzucca's Poetry site 