Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: girl in the mirror

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

empowered queen

for almost three years I’ve been waiting for the next guy to appear
as some kind of hero, as some kind of reward for all of my effort
I’ve put into myself and the life I’ve built
Subconsciously I did this
Even as I publicly roared about being empowered on my own
I still wanted someone to be my sanctuary to lay my love in
And I wrote, manifested, schemed, flirted
got obsessed with men were just meant to be friends
Thinking, gosh, if I hang on long enough, he’ll come around
this might work out
but today I discovered the only hero for me
is the woman in the mirror
who still manages to get out of bed
even on the bad days when she’s too tired to function
when she’s exhausted by all of it

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: sour

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

me in my irreverent crop top

any idea or notion of romance is lost to me
I’ve tried every which way to make myself appetizing
edible for men to take interest in me, love me
but the story always turns sour
and I’m tired of rejection followed by bouts
of tears and insanity
this spring I will not spend my energy
trying to manifest another fool I’ll get obsessed about
or get caught up in my head and daydreams
this spring I’m going to concentrate
only on my potential that’s yet to bloom
Focus of the world of creativity
that resides within waiting to get out

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: nails

this poem was inspired by the 2007 “dreams part 2”

https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=12305

for real

nail on the coffin on the future I wanted
no prince charming
no house with the white picket fence
instead I stare down at the barrel of poverty
trying to find a glimmer of who I used to be
among my many forgotten dreams

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: the script

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

last time I had my last first kiss
it was wasted on a middle age scorpio
I wore a cute summer dress with red lipstick
along with my feminine charm
I didn’t have to lay it on thick for him to desire me
for him to want to kiss me
he would’ve fuck me I hadn’t been on my period
his hands roamed almost every inch of my body
as if it belong to him for the 5 minutes we made out
while I dissociated and pretended I was somewhere else
I was numb and devoid of feeling anything
Am I even a person?
He said things about how I was so hot and sexy
and how sad it was that couldn’t screw me
And I laughed flirtatiously following the script
I’ve had since I could remember
and I felt no desire or any pleasure
if anything I was repulsed
by him, by myself
hating how even at 40,
I was still pulling the same bullshit since I was 16
making myself an object of desire for me to play with
and then something snapped in me that day
a couple of hours after that date
I sent him a snap along with all the other 7 dudes
I was entertaining and keeping as options
the same message,
“I’m sorry, I’m not in a place to date or even
to have men as friends, I wish you the best”
it was hard as I had always been addicted
to men’s attention and validation
but something told me it was time
to switch the narrative
even though I knew it would be lonely

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poesía: colorin colorado

escribí este poema en marzo de 2024.

el y yo

era tiempo de convertimos en extraños y esta vez para siempre
No había más vueltas que dar o mas capítulos de nuestra historia
que escribir
Aceptar que ya nunca más seremos fue el favor más grande que nos hicimos
Ojala que esta vez seamos extraños para siempre
porque siendo algo más siempre nos causa un daño y conflicto
interno
Ojala que esta vez seamos como el fin del cuento que mi papá me contaba
cuando era niña,
“Colorin colorado nuestro cuento se ha acabado”

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: self harm

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

the kind of toxic energy me and my muse were

being with you was a form of self harm
it was another symptom of my mental illness
It was me living with my unhealed alcoholic daddy issues
it was the worst version of me
trying to find some kind of semblance of love
to fill the void with whatever, even if that love
looked toxic, brought out the worst in me,
berated and assaulted me
still stupidly I went back to you and accepted you
in my life over and over again
even with delusional daydreams in the back of my mind
that if I kept you in my life long enough
eventually you’d change and one day we’d get it right
but all you ever did was disappoint me over and over again
but this last undoing of us is the one
and good riddance for that
because at 43, i’m too fucking old to waste my time
on fuck bois who can’t show an ounce of respect
and dignity

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: 2018

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

I acted a fool in 2018

my morality goes out the window when the madness appears
it’s always a combo of impulsivity and hypersexuality
longing for connection, longing for intimacy
Longing to feel something
other than the emptiness that lies within
It’s a temporary fix as I run away from
my self made prison of stability

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poesia: rompecabezas

here’s the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=12198

por un tiempo eras un rompecabezas
siempre tan misterioso
siempre tan cauteloso
nunca hablastes acerca de tu pasado
aunque yo compartí de más de mis trastornos
y aunque me cansaba, seguí tratando
porque mi mamá no crió a un derrotista
pero nada que hice trabajo
nunca pudiste ser vulnerable conmigo

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: tribute

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

I do this for them

I pay tribute to the women who came before me
women who sacrificed so my parents could exist
my mami who had to leave behind her culture,
traditions, and language to give me a better life
to make sure I grow up safe and well educated
and taught me what strength and resilience means
as she worked long days to make ends meet
as she showed initiative to move our family forward
and with her example I was able to follow it
except I change it up some
to live a life full of love, community and creativity

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: restless

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

me being restless when I was a baby

always restless and wild from the start
nothing could contain me or dim my spark
leg braces, overprotective parents
it didn’t matter
I always found a way to make trouble,
to investigate,
always too curious for my own good
and too dramatic and emotional
for mostly everyone
always good at making people
uncomfortable
sometimes it’s a curse,
sometimes it’s a blessing
can’t change this part of myself
I have, am and will always
be like this

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: jilted

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

she deserved better

at 17, the pregnant bride to be got a telegram from her groom
sorry, but I’m betrothed to another and am getting married
at gun point
maybe it was the heavy feeling of rage or her aries nature
and hormones
the jilted bride with a silent fury went to her closet
and took out her ostentatiously beaded wedding dress
and with matches in her hand
she went outside and set fire to it in front of the family home
one of the younger siblings saw the insanity as the bride
stared at it mesmerized by fire that grew and grew
she walked towards it
all sense of reality gone from her
not hearing the screams from her abuela who ran towards her
and just before the bride step foot in the fire
la abuela shook her and slapped her across the face
until the bride reacted, let out a loud wail heard
across the farmland and fainted

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: beatriz valladares

I wrote this poem in March of 2024.

Beatriz’ husband

wonder how it happened-
the transaction between beatriz’ papi and luis
did beatriz have any say in her future betrothal
did she have dreams as a little girl
about her future husband
did she even love Luis or just tolerate him
because it’s what was expected of her
how did it happen
did she wish for a different life for her daughters
one where they loved their husbands
one where they were treated like humans
and not treated like cattle