Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: dystopian clusterfuck

I wrote this poem in February of 2025.

to be honest

me and my family have immigration jokes for day on end
and some of my friends think that’s sick and awful
but its one of the only things
that helps me and my family keep our sanity
in Trump’s American is making fun of our misery and misfortune

it’s how we’ve survived generations of corrupt governments
and wannabe dictators
its how we’ve passed resilience and strength to future generations

sure, we may cry at first as the life we’ve worked hard for
starts falling apart and our plans for the future are shattered
because of a few megarich and corrupt maga idiots
who run our government
but right after we wipe our tears and break out in jokes
and laughter
especially now that what’s supposed to be the land of the free
gets more and more fascist
and we swim closer and closer to nazi waters
the only thing we can do is try to find a way to smile, to laugh,
to find a bit of joy no matter how fucked up in may seem
in this dystopian clusterfuck

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: next time

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

next time, next time, next time
I won’t live in the should haves,
could haves, would haves

next time, next time, next time
I’ll live in my present
and not in my past or future

next time, next time, next time
I won’t feel useless, worthless
or like I’m not enough

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: criminal

I wrote this poem in February of 2025.

my face after I wrote this poem

rose gold cross ripped from her neck
handcuffs cutting into her smalls wrists
mami and papi can’t explain why
they’re nowhere to be found
she thought officers were supposed to be good people
but they hurl insults at her and call her a criminal
and at 10 she can hardly grasped
the severity of the situation
they tell her over and over again
“we’re taking you back to where you came from”
and it’s beyond her compression
because her birth certificate says Illinois
because America is the only home she’s ever known

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: the fairy tale died that day

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I’m pregnant, it’s yours, I want to keep it
I start crying
“Just get rid of it you tell me
he fairytale died that day

I’m at your apartment drunk
And you;re drunk, we fight, then we kiss
And you take me in-but then you feel guilt
And kick me out I
The fairytale died that day

I’m at your apartment
I want to hold you and kiss you
I yearn for you
You imply I can’t be trusted
The fairytale died that day

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesia: incertidumbre

escribi este poems en febrero del 2025.

verdad

la incertidumbre ha sido mi lección más grande en mis últimos 5 años
Nunca sabiendo qué hacer cuando un terremoto emocional
me va a sacudir violentamente
tratando de buscar propósito por el dolor y el duelo
tratando de hacer arte de esto
Algunos dicen que era alquimia y magia
pero yo pienso que alguna palabra o concepto
que todavía no ha sido descubierto

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: don’t fall in love with me

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

Don’t fall in love with me he said to me
right after he got off from me
he wanted to make sure I didn’t get the wrong idea
So he dotted his I’s and T’s of casual fucking
And I didn’t go into a love hysteria
But it was already too late
My intense emotions couldn’t wait
“I love him, he’s my love king”
I was already thinking
the truth is
No one can control a borderline’s mind
And it’s not his fault of mine
that I catch feelings easily
even when you use me sexually
It won’t matter what you say
My mind won’t be swayed

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: so resilient

I wrote this poem in February of 2025.

Diseased hip evicted, shiny aluminum to replace it
6 inch scar needed to better my life
80 minutes of the Drs doing their magic
Cutting into me and making me whole
a recovery period of 6 weeks or so they say
third time trying to fix my hip
hopefully the third time  is a charm
all of this just for being born broken,
Damaged and different

everyone admires my strength and resilience
and all I dream about is one day not being defined
by everything I’ve had to overcome,
of ne day not being called resilient
and being seen as more than the turmoil
I’ve had to endure and over come

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: winds of defiance

I wrote this in February of 2021.

The winds of defiance rules my heart
I love someone I shouldn’t
Who stirs up hate and love
within me
I feel underwhelmed
by everything wonderful
in my life
The winds of defiance rule my heart
And I shouldn’t want to run
from my beautiful lover
and yet I want to
And I desire danger and intensity
even if what I really need
is peace and calm

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: mason

I wrote this poem in January of 2022.

oh Mason

Mason like the jar was his name
being a fuckboy was his game
He tried to act wise beyond his 23 years
But he was still wet behind his ears
He thought he could deceive me
and lies and lies and lies he told me
told me he lived with a roommate
when it was really his soul mate
He wanted his ice cream and cake
but I saw through his con game
And right away I stopped our lust filled affair
My respect I needed to firmly declare

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: nobody knew

I wrote this poem in January of 2022.

Let's love ourselves first
We should love ourselves first

Nobody knew about our sexcapade
You were a temporary escape
From the emptiness and loneliness
I felt in my suburban adolescence

Nobody knew about me and you
Until I could no longer hide
the living creature inside

Nobody knew about me and you
Until my belly grew and grew
And half of it was you

Nobody knew about our short fling
Until one day I had to sing
I’m pregnant with a stranger’s baby
No,he’ll never be the one or even a maybe

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: mi soledad

escribí este poema en enero del 2022.

frida kahlo frase
la Soledad

Mi soledad me enferma
por quererte mas y mas
aunque tu ya no me amas
aunque ya no me tocas
aunque me niegas tus caricias
Y tus palabras de amor
no tienen calor

Mi soledad me mata
Y quiero gritar
Por que te fuistes de mi vida
Y que fuistes mi siempre, y no un quizás
Y ahora eres un a jamás

Mi soledad me dice
Fuiste otra lección que aprender
En este estúpido juego de amor
Llena de nuevo con una sabor amargo