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: 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

poetry: pink haze

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

floating in a neon pink haze , the afterlife awaits
no more suffering, no more mental health crisis
no more dark doses of reality
this could be lovely and nice
but I’m pushed out by forces beyond my control
wake up in a fog
my soul’s purpose has not been fulfilled
I must continue telling my story

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poetry: Homework

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

me after walking/running in the rain

In therapy I’m supposed to write about the last thing that cause me grief
and I think it’s funny considering the tons of poetry and journal entries
I’ve written about it
I’m tired of writing about it, I’m tired of talking about it
I’m tired of thinking about it
and I want to tell my therapist I don’t have homework for this week
but this is part of therapy
this is what I need to address the unhealed trauma within
so I’ll write for the 1000th time about the last thing that caused trauma and grief
hoping my therapist will provide valuable insight on how to let go of it

Posted on by pattytacuri

Honestly

If you had an unlimited budget for 24 hours, what would you do?

Pay off all of my debt, pay mine and my parents rent 12 months in advance and pay my son’s car note. Also go through any go fund me friends and acquaintances and donate what they need. Also, sign up for a couple of writing workshops and pay fees for that.  And buy lots of pretty dresses, journals and books. 🥳🥳🥀

My spirit animal rn
Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Second Chances

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

I believe in second and third chances
because more often than not
I’m the one who’s written off
because more often than
I’m left after the first time I fuck up
because more often than
I’m expected to be almost perfect
and this weighs on me heavily
but it’s my cruel reality
so I’ll give a second, a third, even a 4th chance
because I believe people can change
because I accept people for the humans they are
because even if my benevolence burns me at times
at least I don’t commit an emotional crime
cause judgment without compassion
makes one an inhumane and callous

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: almodóvar

I wrote this poem in May of 2019.

depression is ruining my life

And so she self medicated
with sleeping pills, alcohol
and Almodovar films
she wanted to drown out
the feelings of worthlessness
within her
she was exhausted
from repeating the same lust story
she needed just for today
to numb out her feelings,
to escape the fire in her brain
that burns with self-pity and self hate

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: silver lining

I wrote this poem in May of 2025.

that silver lining turned into a dark cloud real quick

phosphene blooms across the room
when I catch you staring at me
and I feel an electric shock go through me
this feels like a new kind of crazy
this feels like a new stirring of hope
I never expected to feel this way ever again
And this feels like my silver lining
a long time coming




Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: past misadventures

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

charcoal lights up the grill, my son draws a silly drawing on the pavement
today the summer breeze hits as we drink and laugh about our past misadventures
about how dramatic I used to be
about how sensitive you once were
how everything is trauma deconstructed and put to rest
and only positive energy exchanged between us
Building each other up every step of our lives

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: temptation

I wrote this poem in May of 2025.

temptation all around me to repeat the same unhealthy stories
to the sabotage the healthy energy in front of me
it would be so easy to do so
allow it all to combust in front of me
but I won’t
this time I’ll be different
this time I’ll do my best to make it work
this time he knew the poet in me before he met me
and I have no hidden corners of myself left
and with all that said
I know we have a chance of making it

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: mommy guilt

I wrote this poem in May of 2024.

I spiral into a circle of mommy guilt
guilt over being the selfish and self absorbed
during your formative years
guilt over giving my attention to futile and idiotic love stories
when I should have been focusing on you
guilt that maybe if I had been more patient, more nurturing,
you wouldn’t be filled with so much uncertainty about your future

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