Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Mosquito

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

consent is honesty and respect
it doesn’t matter how many time I’ve kissed you
It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve slept with you
Always ask me if I’m okay with whatever you wanna do
Instead of pressuring me, instead of harassing me
with your supposed admiration for me
with your stupid pet names for me
I’m not dear, hottie, beautiful, girl or princess
Call me by my god given name
and maybe then I would take you seriously
instead of ignoring you, pretending you’re a mosquito
Impossible to get rid off

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poesía: Un Balde de Agua Fría

Here is the English Version of this poem:

Poetry: To My Baby Daddy

mis palabras te caeran como un balde de agua fría
pero tengo que desahogarme-no puedo seguir tragándome
tanto dolor y rencor
quiero que te olvides de él, por favor-
tu presencia causa conflicto y confusión
tu presencia abre una herida del cual yo recién me estaba curando
además los dos sabemos que no vienes para quedarte para siempre
solo estas aquí para limpiar tu conciencia que no te deja dormir
y te llena de remordimientos retrasados

Posted on by pattytacuri

Driving Phobia

Daily writing prompt
What fears have you overcome and how?
View all responses
October 2021

Driving phobia filled me with shame and fear for 15 years
and on a windy October day,I took my power back
that day I learned not to listen to my inner critic
rambling on about my incompetence, feeding into my anxiety
and my constant insecurities
that day I took the keys and drove
and while it was absolutely terrifying
it provided me with the understanding
how I had the power all along
to take the steering wheel of my life
with a new determination and purpose
to never again allow myself or others
make me a passenger again
it had been a role I had long ago outgrown
that I had been afraid to let go of
but that day I said “fuck it, it’s now or never”
and I took a chance on myself
and never felt more empowered

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Doubts

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

don’t knock it until you try it

my doubts, my fears, my insecurities
should pay rent for the immense space
they take up in my mind
they crowd me and make me question
my worth on my low days
they show up with intrusive thought saying
I’m not good enough
or I don’t deserve my wonderful life
my doubts, my fears, my insecurities
Constantly try to bring me down
and sometimes even my affirmations
aren’t enough

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

I turn off my phone

Daily writing prompt
How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?
View all responses
me when I unplug

I turn the world off and by the world I mean my phone-
I’m done with the posts about healing or being self aware
or reels about how people like me struggle
because of patriarchy or white supremacy
I’m done with texts and calls from friends and family
asking if I’m okay because of some weird status I posted
I’m done with the announcements about babies
or impending marriages or how so and so’s kid made honor roll
I’m done with emails asking me if I want to improve
my website or am I ready for a new summer wardrobe
I’m just done with the world today and retreat into my world
of writing,reading, and vinyls

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poesia: Perdoname

Here is the English version of this poem:

Poetry: Thoughts

regresas para decirme que no puedes parar de pensar en mi
que todavía me extrañas, que cometiste un error al rompernos
y todo lo que alguna vez sentí por ti vuelve a la superficie
y quiero cerrar los ojos y correr a tus brazos
y empezar un nuevo cuento de amor contigo
pero la razón interviene, y mi dignidad regresa
al acordarme del infierno que viví cuando te fuiste
y te digo
“perdoname, pero no puedo cometer el mismo error denuevo”
,

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Hope Walks into My DMs on Fridays

I wrote this in June of 2022.

seriously tho

On thursdays, I cry and cry because the loneliness gets to me
because I want to belong to somebody, anybody
because being an independent woman gets exhausting
but then I remember I’m incompatible with love
And by myself I’m enough
and a relationship feels like handcuffs
But then on Fridays, a sliver of hope walks into my DMs
And a random man fills me up with compliments
And I almost forget how love is a torment
and I almost find hope again thanks to instagram