Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: well,okay then

I wrote this poem in November of 2024.

I’m so dramatic

when someone blocks me, I wonder what was the last straw
was is some irreverent post I posted
some salty poem on my blog that offended them
something stupid I said
most of the time I simply let it go and understand
I’m not for everyone but when it’s someone
I considered a friend, I’m stumped
because I thought friends were supposed to talk
things out when conflict occurs
I thought friends were supposed to give each other
Space when they screw up
But I guess in this instance, I must have done something
so unforgivable, so horrible, I didn’t deserve a warning
Before being blocked
And now there’s nothing I can do
I have to accept this was just a season of friendship
and move on
I’ll never know what I did wrong
and he’ll never know how he wrecked me

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: pink bow

I wrote this poem in November of 2024.

I was so angry

A giant pink bow comes apart and disintegrates
and my female ancestors and all of the women
on my timeline cry
tears of rage, tears of grief
we know it’s the beginning of the end
on this gloomy november day
Soon we’ll be relegated to second class citizens
soon some of us will immigrate to other countries
so we don’t end up like handmaidens

Posted on by pattytacuri

cherry chapstick

Daily writing prompt
When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
View all responses

With cherry chapstick, I felt like a woman
I felt like a sexy vixen from the telenovelas
even though I was only 9-
and while everyone around me still treated me
like a little girl-
after applying my cherry chapstick
something awakened inside of me
Was it the beginning of puberty?

10/2/22

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: white pendejadas

I wrote this poem in October of 2021.

encouragement
keep going

Trauma after trauma
I have withstood
Standing up right away and pretending
everything was fine
There was no time
for tears or processing
of feelings
That was a luxury for
the white upper class
Therapy-pssst
No time or money for
that either –
It’s gringo concept
Self care – that’s only
for the rich
No, you’re a latina Woman
our people rely on grit
and resilience
There is no time for white pendejadas
No, you’re a latina woman –
you only need the strength
from your ancestors
to survive this life

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: finding myself in Autumn

I wrote this poem in October of 2021.

hope in my eyes
me in Autumn of 2021

The rain falls steadily in Autumn
and I remember the 9 days in the summer
When the tears wouldn’t quit raining from my eyes
The eternal emotional pain wouldn’t stop
the lonely nights I couldn’t sleep
the infinite anger and sadness that I felt
the emptiness that wouldn’t
go away
the food I couldn’t eat.
And yet I still woke up
every day with a determination to live
live for my kids
live for my friends
live for myself
even at my worst,
even at my most vulnerable
Somehow, I managed
managed to find strength
managed to find inspiration
and somehow managed to
find my way back to myself
Summer was the season
I died when I was
rejected by the one who
claimed to love me
Autumn is the season I was reborn
and I fell back in love
with myself, forgot him
and fell into the magic
that is me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: stillness

I wrote this poem in October of 2020.

stimulation
it’s okay to be bored

The stillness in my life makes me insane
I’m craving an adventure
I’m craving ecstasy
I’m craving the unpredictable
To lie in the stillness feels like dying
and I want to live
Live life spontaneously,live life musically
Live a life full of excitement
To live in this stillness makes me feel like
I’m drowning in a lake of stagnation

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: what is it?

I wrote this poem in October of 2024

quote from Mariah Carey

is it the gods of bpd and pmdd or the men in my life with 3 of swords energy
making me extra hateful and moody today
are my standards too high because I’m obsessed
with conan gray, joji, and yung gravy
and none of the men in my life seem to hold a flicker of a flame
to the Gods of music I worship
is is the gods of bpd and pmdd or my chronic pain making me a moody bitch
today or is it me not being selective enough with who I’m allowing
into my inner circle and allowing clowns to pollute my energy
because lately my poetry isn’t hitting like it used to
or maybe I just need to uninstall all of my social media apps,
turn off my phone for a few days, and read books and listen to my vinyls
to reset and recharge

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: falling apart

I wrote this poem in October of 2019.

bravery
I will rebuild

And just when I think I have it all figured out–
Everything falls apart again
the universe has a funny way of humbling me
just when I think I finally have it together
When does it get easier?
Am I being punished for not conforming
to society’s expectations of me?
Should I be sorry for not wanting to just be
a wife and mother?
Will I ever be free of society’s shackles
thrusted upon me?

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: our journey

I wrote this poem in October of 2024.

feeling like Dorothy

we went from devils to fools within a span of a couple of years
it’s a journey that almost broke us
one that needed to be taken apart
you needed to find out who you were without alcohol
I needed to find out who I was without a lover
and when we met again
I was deathly afraid to let you back in
and kept my guard up
making sure we didn’t fall back into the toxicity
we used to bask in
and various times I thought that meant
blocking you, ghosting you, taking what you said personally
but really it was me being careful with my ego and energy
not wanting to risk another emotional relapse
and the last time I let you go
I really thought we were done
but on a september night, you texted again
And while I tried to keep it platonic
I couldn’t help myself and found myself
in your arms once again
trying desperately to keep it casual,
to say no strings attached at all,
you can leave when you want to
but how can I do this when I keep
thinking about you
and suddenly I find myself a fool
in our journey

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: 3 years ago

I wrote this poem in October of 2024.

determined and driven

3 years ago I took the wheel for the first time by myself
and there was no going to the dependent woman I once was
3 years ago I said fuck it, if I crash and die, it will be fine
after all I’ve been suicidal since I could remember
3 years ago I took the keys and landed in the driver’s seat
And from that day on, I understood the power I held within
and how never again I’ll give that power to others

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: how are you?

I wrote this poem in October of 2020.

hell yeah

He’ll ask me,
“How are you?
And I wanted to say–
“Miserable. Bad. sad. I hate you.
I wished for your death a thousand times.
I miss you. I love you.”
Instead, I said, “I’m okay”
And in the silence between our texts
I wondered
“Why? Why did he come back?
Why did I let him back in ?
Why do I love him?”

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: beneath the fog

I wrote this poem in October of 2024.

Cause it’s too little , way too late 😔 -Laufey

beneath the fog, I almost crashed my car
I wasn’t drunk, just under the influence of seroquel
and crazy from the euphoria
just experienced in the arms of my ex lover
Beneath the fog, I almost crashed my car
but I used all of my DBT skills to calm down
and manage to park my car at a gas station
To gain my composure
and suddenly Kid LAROI is blasting
from some zoomer’s truck
with a message for me from the universe
that I’d be alright despite
life’s almost disasters
and that the sexual creature I’ve held with
for most than two years
is alive and well
and ready to make up for lost time