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poetry: bitch

I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

no longer a victim, I’m now a heroine

the passage of time is a bitch
That I’m reminded of
with every one of my wrinkles I abhor
The passage of time is a bitch
and I desperately want to hold onto my beauty
wearing clothes I’m too old for
and taking an obscene amount of pictures and posting them to validate my self esteem
the passage of time is a bitch
and I self flagellate for not doing enough
to improve myself
and still deal with the same bullshit day in,day out
I thought I would be done with after years of therapy
and introspection
the passage of time is a bitch
and while I could wallow in defeat
thinking of all I could have been
instead I stand proudly and declare
I will no longer sit still and watch life happen to me
from now on I’ll make the best of the time
I have left
and become selective of what and who
I give my energy and time to

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poetry: consequences

I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

for real for real….

the consequences of being a hopeless romantic outweigh any rewards
everytime I start to believe in love it never works out
Everytime I start to believe in love it ends up in chaos and destruction
and i try and try again only always to have the same ending
and after 26 years of doing this-I don’t have it in me
to endure around love failure
someone who appears sure of me-only for them to change their mind
about me on a whim
the consequences of being a hopeless romantic has filled a dozen
notebooks and journals with sorrow and grief

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poetry: no one is coming to rescue you

I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

such a hard lesson to learn

No one is coming to rescue you, princess
no matter how much you wish to be saved or try your hardest to  manifest
a prince to carry the heavy burden of responsibility
you’re constantly lifting
No one is coming to save you, princess
It’s up to you to save yourself
It’s up to you to continue to work hard
and be selective on what you expend
your energy on
No one is coming to help you, princess
You’re no longer relying on others
for a sense of identity or security
and you’re now an independent Queen
who’s learned only she herself
can save herself and is wise enough to block out
any negativity or toxicity
that threatens her autonomy
or wants to bring on another
Emotional relapse

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: NSA Telepathic Sex

I wrote this poem in August 2023.

maybe my alien will bring this kind of romantic energy

I’m curious about the aliens on earth
and if they’re into NSA, telepathic sex
the kind where I get to lie down
and sleep, and they come into my dreams
and make me have multiple orgasms
Over and over again
perhaps these are crazy thoughts
from a middle-aged woman
who’s been celibate for more than a year
And is oh so thirsty for intimacy
but can’t stand the thought of a man
getting near me
it makes me want to vomit
at this point I’d take some extra terrestrial
Out of the universe sex without any feelings involved
the kind that fixes my craving for connection
and intimacy
the kind that doesn’t bring me another episode
of psychosis

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

poetry: playground

I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

look but don’t come near me

My bra is the milkshake that brings men to my playground
It gives me the cleavage that makes them feel like they’re in love
They’ll claim it’s my words or my eyes they’re in love with , but let’s not kid ourselves
It’s really my majestic breasts that pop out with their own personalities
they fuel their many exotic and erotic fantasies

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poetry: anything

I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

guy holding the fish in his profile pic, come find me

anything resembling love threatens the home I’ve built
over the past two years
and yet the romantic threads in me won’t disappear
they want to weave another love story
they want to be pulled into the magic to getting know
someone new
and having arms to call home

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poetry: TBH

I wrote this poem in August of 2022.

heartbreak brings up raging hello kitty energy…hahaha

My love data tells me I shouldn’t try again because every time
I crash and burn and cause trauma and drama
because every time it ends, I get hateful and want revenge
and While I do appreciate the poetry that comes
after every broken relationship
I don’t think I can withstand the heartbreak and hardship
the next time it ends

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poetry: doomed

I wrote this poem in August of 2023.

exactly

Am I doomed to men trying me on
just so they can change their minds-
days, weeks, months, years later
is it some kind of karmic energy in me
I still haven’t found the remedy for?
Perhaps I really need to stop trying
to find hope in love
and stick to what’s working for me
and that’s being alone

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: IHOP

I wrote this poem in August of 2020.

this was the best AI generated Art could do…idk,,lol

I met you on a cold January night at the IHOP
across your apartment complex
As I was eating up my loneliness
with scrambled eggs and coffee
I hoped you couldn’t see remnants
of tears that had fallen before you came
and you sat across from me
and as we awkwardly made conversation
I wondered if you would be the one
to breathe new life into my almost dead existence
I wondered if your kiss would help me
reignite a fire of desire, would remind me
I’m more than a wife and mother
But most of all I wondered if maybe, just maybe
someone would finally love me