Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: unfriended

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

putting in bold letters I support ICE in your facebook profile pic
I quickly unfriended yours and your husband’s joint facebook account
the one created after he stepped out on you
and karma was served to you for being a homewrecker
several years ago
the one created to keep tabs on him so he wouldn’t do it again
and as I write this, I almost laugh hysterically
because of course it makes sense that you support Trump, ICE,
and everyone who wants to destroy and rips rights away from everyone
who’s not white and straight
After all, didn’t you yourself tear a family apart?
so it makes perfect sense
also I always wondered who the other woman was
from your hateful vitriol of immigrants and latinas
she must be one hell of a Latina who almost took your man

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: stain

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

I’ll leave an emotional stain on your life that will be hard to get rid of
You’ll curse the day I was born
You’ll regret the day you ever meet me
because I demand respect, because I’ll never be your safe place
because I’ll say “no” to being relegated to the role of mistress
and you’ll accuse me of being crazy and narcissist
just because I wanted to be treated with dignity
just because I want to be seen as more than another girl to pass the time with

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: harassment

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

once my boundaries are crossed, I CUT YOU OUT LIKE TAGS ON MY CLOTHING (like the great Conan Gray said)

it’s not romance, it’s harassment
placing me on your dream girl altar
and telling me about your boner
Even after I  told you no
But then you still threw me your delusional love
and when I was honest right away
and I told you “I’m sorry but no”
somehow now I’m a crazy bitch,
a stranger
who’s letting her mental illness talk for her
after calling out your misogynistic behavior
All I said was no to you and the insults come on cue
I warned you, didn’t I and now foul, you cry
I told you I wasn’t ready for what you had to offer
but you kept playing the part of my great admirer
and maybe I’m fucked up in the head
but your fantasies I needed to behead
I needed to keep myself safe from men like you
who try to bully me into loving them
into giving in because your endless attention
and compliments
haven’t you read my story?
I’m not no longer a woman who bends and bends
to man’s thirst for me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: soft heart

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

me in 1988

my rage comes in like a bright orange burst and it explodes in social media posts,
my notebooks, and journal
it’s my inner child scared and anxious who feels threatened
and take it upon herself to call on middle age me
to defend her, to protect her from the cruelty and abuse happening in front of her
so many families like mine torn apart
so many immigrant children like me many years ago crying for their parents
not understanding why this is happening
and I feel the heavy weight of impotence not knowing how I can help
or what to do to stop all of this needless pain and suffering happening in front of me
and all I see is a bright orange burst of rage ready to punch walls
because my empathetic and soft heart feels the cries, the whimpers, the screams
of the parents and kids whose only crime was to leave their country
in search for a better life

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: warzone

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

you can go your own way-fleetwood mac

I’ve walked through the warzone of my love life long enough to know
when a bomb is about to explode (when I fall of some guy’s dream girl altar)
It’s a minefield full of suppressed feelings
consequences of accommodating to a man’s ego
And I’ll tread ever so carefully
I don’t want to be alone, I just want to be loved,
I’ll bend and bend until you call me Gumby
Except I’m not and then I’ll snap and another bomb will go off
“You’re crazy,” you’re dangerous” “ I don’t recognize you”
all for expressing my feelings and wanting respect and dignity

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: different

I wrote this poem in May of 2025.

from my favorite movie “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”

Wish I could say I’m a chill and cool kind of girl when it comes to love
but I’m not
because once I’m into you and I let you in
it will be hard to get rid of me
because I am a nurturer and I’ll love you with my whole heart
and I’ll make you the center of my world and find ways for us to get closer
wait, wait, wait
this version of me no longer exist
she went up in flames a few years back
Nowadays, the slightest sirens go off in me and I want to run away and block him
Cease and desist any evidence of him, the slightest offence
and it takes everything out of me to remember my skills learned in therapy
Tell him, I need a bit of time to process and we’ll talk in the morning
I know that after a good night’s sleep, I’ll look at things differently
and won’t fuck up my new love story because of a single simple misunderstanding

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: wolf

I wrote this poem in May of 2025.

💗💗💗

I’m the girl who screamed wolf in love in my poems one too many times
always acting like I’m the victim
always acting like I’m the hurt party
always acting like I’m fucked over in love when the truth is
I too have broken hearts
I too am shit at relationships
I too dispose of men once they fall off from my pedestal
and so perhaps, I need to stop screaming wolf
and accept that every once in a while
I am the wolf who’s capable of destroying and disposing of people as well

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: motherhood

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

me with my youngest son

there are days I don’t feel strong enough to be their mom
maybe it’s insecurity that weighs heavily on me
after every fight, after every conflict
it was easier when they were small
and I was their favorite person
the one they ran to the moment I opened the door
nowadays I work much and they have their own interests
to have much to do with me
nowadays they bring up grievances of everything
I’ve done and am doing wrong
is this karma for being a bad daughter to my mom
is this karma for being selfish and self absorbed
for a few years of their lives
Who knows-
maybe it’s not about being strong, being right,
or being respected
maybe it’s about them knowing they are loved

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry:blossoming

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

My son is blossoming and becoming the man
I always knew he could be
He’s ambitious, he’s kind,he’s a hard worker
He’s a mother’s dream come true
And while at times he may still stumble and occasionally
He’s inherited strength and resilience from me
It keeps him from giving up
It keeps him moving towards a life full of success and happiness

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poetry: Next

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

I keep trying to write my next chapter of love and find my next ex
but this time it’s difficult and tricky
since I’m not desperate, I’m not crazy and I have standards
and I don’t automatically swipe right on 10 out of 10 face card,
I really observe where they stand on important issues
like will they make the main and only romantic protagonist
in their life?
will they fetichize me like I’m some cute, sexy, and exotic little thing?
are they the kind of person to cheer if anyone in my family gets deported
so many things to ponder about as I try to find my next ex
perhaps, I’m overthinking this and should try to not be so picky
then again, I know how quickly the romantic in me cling to someone
the minute I feel chemistry, the minute they feel like home to me
only for me to break apart catastrophically when it all comes crashing down
nah, I can’t let that happen ever again
so this time around, it’s best to be strategic and think logically to myself
rule with my head instead of my heart

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: Horace and Betty

I wrote this poem in April of 2025.

horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I’m both awestruck and jealous at their achievement
because I couldn’t even get past year 11 of my marriage
because now I can’t even get past a talking stage on any of the dating apps
because I can’t imagine the kind of saintly patience, understanding and loyalty
required for that kind of commitment

horace and betty flaunt 77 years of matrimony on the front page of the local newspaper
and I wonder the fuck they did it
what was the magic key to unlock both their doors to a lifetime of shared love,respect
and vulnerability