Sierra Mazzucca | + Follow Poet |
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Head Locksmith

I’m not shy, but sometimes I don’t speak up when My insides are mixed up, and my words are stopped by a gate that’s locked, and the only key is sanity, that coincidentally falls off my broken mental ring which I have been searching for as that too goes missing I was looking into different ways I can keep my key from falling astray. Maybe take the lock off the gate, that’s blocking the words and emotions I need to feel, and say Creating a backup with my feeling’s day after day
I thought I hired a head locksmith
But same same different ish
He canceled our weekly standing appointments. 
Looks like he, up and quit. Was the lock just too intricate that he couldn’t even try to replicate it. Or refer any good suggestions that would help some words escape 
No, just like the rest he gave up, and I recall the last day
He grabbed his head, and I watched his efforts Fade away. So back to square one. it is for me. No, I’m not shy. I’m just backed up a little inside Sometimes, I’m afraid to talk because I don’t know what word bomb, I may drop. It’s taken an hour to write this poem, which it should not. I’m pulling and pulling words under the gate. Where the opening is just a sliver I’ve managed to recently create. Time is what I will have to take Take, ha. Take time to say the words I need to say Feel the emotions individually, not all at once, in one sitting, on one day.
Dang it. He did help, didn't he?
I see I didn’t need the services he was providing me I just needed to look at this differently. Remembering that these days more times than not, I don't get bombarded by my feelings and thoughts My gate now has a knob, which I can use that won't be locked
Everything wants to be heard and seen
Only now, I know how to process them individually

Copyright © Sierra Mazzucca | Year Posted 2025

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