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poetry: too much time

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

I choose to change the narrative

I wasted too much time in comparing myself to other women
and blaming them when my exes chose them
and allowed my jealousy and rage to speak for me
Never understanding how they were all just innocent bystanders
in my complicated and chaotic love stories
I’m sorry, I didn’t know any better
and I wasn’t mature enough to take accountability
and it was easier to use y’all as scapegoats
when I lost war after  war of love-
It was easier to say you won
because I wasn’t educated and white like you
In reality, I should’ve used my ammunition
only towards my exes
It was never y’alls fight to be a part of
even if some of them used y’all as an excuse
for their departure
I’m so sorry, anna, david’s ex-wife,
my ex metamours,
maybe my message will come to you in a dream
or you’ll see this poem in my blog one day
and be able to forgive me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: lies

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

my working class reality

a pledge of allegiance full of lies
brainwashes us with promises
that will go unfulfilled
the rest of our lives
the pursuit of happiness
doesn’t exist in this country
that treats its marginalized communities
as subhuman
we can say God Bless America until we’re blue in the face
it still doesn’t change a damn thing
about a country that’s fucks over
its most vulnerable communities

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: ivory tower problems

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

a collage of me in my kroger garb

I’m starting to radically accept someone like me
will always be judged differently from my peers
it doesn’t matter how many degrees I have-
how much I code switch to fit in-
it will never be enough to be truly accepted
so I’ll smile and nod while they complain
about ivory tower problems
while I roll my eyes inside my mind-
man, I really wish I had your problems Susan
but I got to go to my second job now

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poetry: river

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

ain’t that the truth

the river of my love for you dried and at first I cried
but then it felt like freedom, it felt like happiness
to no longer obsess over someone who treated me like shit
to feel nothing for someone who caused me a world of pain
over and over again
Does this mean I finally learned my worth?

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: Bonnie and Clyde

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

I wonder sometimes

were we the bonnie and clyde of toxic relationships ?
you setting up and detonating love bombs in my heart
and making me explode in rage every time you left
and me encouraging you with every reunion
because I loved you, because I didn’t want to be alone
so I went along with your emotional crimes every time
Until one day, I learned my worth
and blocked your energy from my universe

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: keep driving

I wrote this poem in June of 2023.

driving anxiety be dammed

every time I drive somewhere new I’m beyond terrified
doubts about driving skills cloud me and I want to break down
and panic in the middle of traffic
but I push through my fears, my insecurities, and keep driving
I can’t be weighed down by who I used to be
A woman reliant on the transportation of others
A woman fearful of living a full life
that is my old story
and it’s not that I hate that version of myself
I just refused to hold myself hostage by my past
which tries to hold me back from
being the independent woman I was always meant to be

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: distress

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

selfie while I broke down on 9/30/23

I was in distress the other night
but I wasn’t the damsel who needed to be saved
I was a friend who needed a friend
and maybe I was expecting too much
but you could have done better
than some two word awkward text
as I was breaking down in the diner

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

poetry: I’ll take an order of fries with my mental breakdown

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

the fries I cried over on the night of 9/30/23

I cry over my fries while I write nonsense
because nothing makes sense
I’ve worked so hard to change my narrative
of mental illness
so hard to create a new story of strength
and resilience where I’m the heroine
but tragically I’m a falling victim again
to depression, anxiety, BPD, and whatever
the fuck else it is wrong with me
and I wish to make myself small enough
to disappear into a mist of nothingness
because lately it hurts too much to exists

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poetry: whoa

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

it’s my vibe

In the isolation of my solitude
I try to find grace and compassion
that’s evading me
I try to ground myself in my writing
and music
because I don’t want to talk about it
and I’d rather let out my tears
in the comfort of my bedroom
or on my notebooks
because last time I let someone in
on my crazy, they left
they always leave me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: witness

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

for real for real

in the juxtaposition of the karens and working class
I find sympathy for both
it’s hard to explain this in between-
it’s an exhausting struggle of understanding
the complexities of the human condition
of wanting to be seen
of wanted to be heard and respected
and I stared in horror, almost breathless
as the karens and the working class
exchange verbal hostile fire
and almost throw hands at each other
as one threatens the other’s livelihood
and the other stood their ground
and I –
was just a witness to the epidemic
of anger in America

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poetry: too busy for me

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

me on the September 30th

I sought solace in friends last night
and everyone was busy or asleep
so I cried hysterically in the middle
of the street, and then in the diner
over my fries, and finally in my uber ride
Strangers kept asking me if I was okay
one even offered me a ride
even in my worst moments of crises,
I always find a way to survive
even when I’m in the thick fog
of a mental breakdown
I know now how to take care
of myself and keep myself safe
maybe that was the lesson the universe
sent last night
even in my most hopeless of times
I will always find a way to survive
and eventually be okay

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poetry: not promised tomorrow

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

just me and my entire universe

we’re not promised tomorrow, so we must make the best of our todays-
making community with our friends, reconnecting with our roots
loving our children with a loud fervor
we’re not promised tomorrow, so we must appreciate
everything we have
the legs that take us on walks and runs
the creativity that flows from our minds
the laughter shared with loved ones

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: what if

I wrote this poem in September of 2023.

what if it all works out in the end?

my heart is full of what ifs? What if it works out?
What if I’m not as dumb as I think I am?
What If I stop listening to the voices in my head
that taunt me-telling me I’m not good enough?
What if I’m brave enough today
and chase my dreams despite my haters
and my inner critic?

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poetry: complete

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

about to make a life changing trip

I longed and longed and longed to feel whole
until I planted my feet on the soil I was born on
until I breathed the air my parents and ancestors inhaled
until I tasted flavors from almost a lifetime ago
I longed and longed and longed to feel whole
until I returned to my homeland
and it was the piece of the puzzle found
I needed to finally complete me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: beautiful

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

a unique kind of beautiful

and the roses never wilted,
they just transformed into flowers
never seen before
for a while it looked like they were dying
as they slowly turned gray and then black
but then they bloomed into something different,
a unique kind of beautiful