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Poster Girl for Failure

this is so true….makes lemons out of lemonade

How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?

I used to think I was the poster girl for failure
I’m a failure at love, I’m a failure at life, I’m a failure at everything
but all of these are thoughts of a past version of me
the version of me who saw herself as a victim
the version of me who took comfort in her misery
in my middle age I changed that narrative
I no longer see myself as a failure
I see myself as a person who makes mistakes
who’s deeply flawed, who has caused pain
it’s doesn’t make me a loser or a disaster
It makes me a human who’s trying her best to live her life
and sometimes that doesn’t always look pretty
I now see failure as stepping stone,a learning curve
to continue to grow, to continue to evolve
to become better and healthier than I’ve been before

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poesia: Miseria Toxica

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/03/poetry-tired-2/

Mis amigas son mi peor enemigas
Sacando a la luz todas mis inseguridades
y siento ansiedad que me trae insomnia
pensando si ellas tienen la razón
seré en realidad una mujer suela?
seré en realidad una madre negligente?
seré en realidad una estupida,
por querer superarme?
y me convenzo que nunca
seré suficiente para lo que se
espera de mi
y me siento deprimida
con esta realización
y me quedo dormida
con un corazón lleno
de miseria toxica

Posted on by pattytacuri · 7 Comments

Poetry: The Writer’s Fight

I wrote this poem in February 2022.

me around the time I wrote this poem

To write is to fight
words that cuts like swords
How do I stop this torture?
of suppressing a petty light

Pen stabs paper with might
about past regrets and lost love wars
and memories best left ignored
of a dreadful and chaotic life

To write is to fight
Demons I want to hide from
But I can’t help but succumb
to my constant inner fight

Pen stabs paper with might
and I try to find closure
about past lovers
I write from love and spite

To write is to fight
Do I really need to say that?
Yes,it’s my trauma to unpack
and my words take flight

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

Poetry: Last Day of 40

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

me on the last day of 40

Last day of 40 and it feels like the longest year of my life
My 4th decade started with the miracle of what I thought was true love
But nope-it was another story of disillusionment and loss
growth and progress became the theme in my 40th year
I beat a 15 year driving phobia and made art from heartbreak and trauma
and I’m no longer scared to live my truth out loud
with my family, friends, and my online community
I also learned I was enough and complete by myself
and never needed someone to validate my existence
And as year 40 closes,I’m amazed by my creativity and resilience
and how time and time again I turn my trauma and grief
into the ultimate comeback story
For year 41,I hope to continue to thrive with calm and tranquility
and enjoy the magic I found within

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Poesía: Rabia

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/04/poetry-i-wish/

estoy cansada de tragarme las opiniones de otra personas
que piensan que ellos me conocen a mi mejor de que yo me conozco
Asentir de acuerdo que ellos saben lo que en mejor para mi
pero cuando me defiendo
me acusan de ser otra Latina ardiente y furiosa
entonces sigo tragándome su palabras hirientes e ignorantas
que me hacen sentir pequeña y como una estúpida
mientras me quemo adentro con una rabia grande e intensa

Posted on by pattytacuri · 6 Comments

Poetry: A Knock on My Door

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

this kid makes my dark days worth living

When darkness comes in and my sadness sets in
it covers me and I can’t see the point of it all
And then I hear a knock and it’s my son
And I remember, today he’s my life’s purpose
I need to get up and face another dreadful day
My child needs food and shelter
I can’t let my depression win
I’m a mother first
My darkness will have to be martyred
Remembering over and over again
on days like today my child’s presence
makes my bad days worth living

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poetry: Existing

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

Existing was this never ending sorrow
Existing was a “what the point of it all” status
Existing was a horrible and exhausting nightmare
I couldn’t want to wake up from
But now..
Existing is welcoming the excitement of the morning sun
Existing is looking forward to my next chapter
Existing is a hopeful and lovely dream
I’m currently living in

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poesía: Valiente y Fuerte

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/06/poetry-miserable-memories/

regrese al mundo que me causo trauma en mi infancia
bastante a cambiado, bastante sigue igual
recuerdos de dolor, miseria, y pobreza regresaron
a mi mente
la niña miedosa y ansiosa que era me visita
pero esta vez , la llevó de la mano
y le digo, ahora eres una mujer valiente y fuerte
y las personas que te hicieron daño
nunca más lo harán, las personas que te traumaron
ahora son parte de tu pasado

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poesia: Dolor

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/03/poetry-pain/

me estoy hundiendo en mi tristeza
y nada o nadie lo puede para
empiezo a sentirme entumecida a mi vida
y ha nadie le importa
y quiero gritar pero no puedo
en cambio finjo sonrisas
y digo que todo está bien

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

Poetry: Temporary Cure

I wrote this on Valentine’s Day of 2022.

me on Valentine’s Day of 2022

I fucked many recklessly without a purpose
some part of me was looking for love
it was a temporary cure when I wanted to avoid emptiness
it was a temporary cure for my painful loneliness
so I used the the magic of my body
to feel like somebody, like I was worthy
But one day I got tired of how it wasn’t enough
and found my worth and self love
I mean, sure it was fun but I’m done, done and done
I forgive the person I once was who mistook lust for love
I didn’t know any better and settled for prince charmings
when I really needed a king to match my love energy
A king who accepts all of me and not just her body
A king who wants to evolve and grow with me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poesia: Hielo

Here is the English version of the poem that inspired this one:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/21/poetry-thanks-to-you/

el hielo de tu despedida me destruyo
eras otra leccion que aprendi, otro hombre que me quemo
Y después de 4 años quieres pedir disculpas
disminuyendo todo lo que pasó
como si fuera un accidente menor
como si no me arruinaste la vida
como si no me trataste como basura
Querido, es demasiado tarde para tus remordimientos
dile a tu conciencia que se calle
solita, me encargue del desmadre que dejaste
Y nosotros hemos sobrevivido sin it
Entonces, vete, vete, vete
Nunca más regreses aquí

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: Sleep Evades Me

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

me around the time I wrote this poem

I wish for sleep to take me away to a dreamless land
but I’ll take unpleasant dreams about ghosts from my past
just so my body can get a full night’s rest
But sleep evades me,it runs away from me
like a lover who lures me with a taste of love
only to abandon me on a whim
and I try and try and try to shut down my mind
but tonight an emotional triggers hit me and trauma visits me
My body and mind remembers the adrenaline rush
of emotional and physical wounds and it scares sleep off
I wonder what to do next and get angry at my traitorous body
but I remember-trauma is complex and while most of it has been processed
There are still remnants that come out to be seen, to be addressed
And I end up here with the nightmare of insomnia that won’t let me rest
And while it’s scary I remember it’s also temporary
eventually my body has to give in and I’ll fall asleep