I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
the river of my love for you dried and at first I cried
but then it felt like freedom, it felt like happiness
to no longer obsess over someone who treated me like shit
to feel nothing for someone who caused me a world of pain
over and over again
Does this mean I finally learned my worth?
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
I give you a yard, and you give me an inch-
it’s a game of back and forth nonsense
one where I respect your unspoken boundaries
and need for space
until one day the push back from you
pulled back into a dark place I haven’t been in a while
a place where my confidence breaks, a place where I start to question my worth
a place when my sense of self breaks once again
and I know right there, and then, it’s better to give up
whatever this was
I’ve outgrown men who send me mixed signals
I wrote this poem in June of 2023.
every time I drive somewhere new I’m beyond terrified
doubts about driving skills cloud me and I want to break down
and panic in the middle of traffic
but I push through my fears, my insecurities, and keep driving
I can’t be weighed down by who I used to be
A woman reliant on the transportation of others
A woman fearful of living a full life
that is my old story
and it’s not that I hate that version of myself
I just refused to hold myself hostage by my past
which tries to hold me back from
being the independent woman I was always meant to be
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
I was in distress the other night
but I wasn’t the damsel who needed to be saved
I was a friend who needed a friend
and maybe I was expecting too much
but you could have done better
than some two word awkward text
as I was breaking down in the diner
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
I cry over my fries while I write nonsense
because nothing makes sense
I’ve worked so hard to change my narrative
of mental illness
so hard to create a new story of strength
and resilience where I’m the heroine
but tragically I’m a falling victim again
to depression, anxiety, BPD, and whatever
the fuck else it is wrong with me
and I wish to make myself small enough
to disappear into a mist of nothingness
because lately it hurts too much to exists
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
In the isolation of my solitude
I try to find grace and compassion
that’s evading me
I try to ground myself in my writing
and music
because I don’t want to talk about it
and I’d rather let out my tears
in the comfort of my bedroom
or on my notebooks
because last time I let someone in
on my crazy, they left
they always leave me
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
I try on grace and self compassion thinking of the many times
I wanted to be someone else
Mirroring my sister and my best friends to escape from myself
never thinking I was enough-
I even tried to be like my former metamours-
so smart, so pretty, so American
they were placed on pedestals by my exes
so of course I wanted to be like them-
never understood how I never stood a chance
and how nothing I did would matter
my exes always chose them
they were safe,predictable and shared their background
everything I was never going to be
so I chose to embrace who I really am
a woman with a chaotic history who feels everything with a magnitude of intensity
a woman who no longer mirrors others to gain a sense of identity
I now stand firm in the authenticity of my duality
I embrace my God given gift of my creativity and share it shamelessly
there’s no turning back now that I’m fully me
and I no longer care who loves and accepts me
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
I sought solace in friends last night
and everyone was busy or asleep
so I cried hysterically in the middle
of the street, and then in the diner
over my fries, and finally in my uber ride
Strangers kept asking me if I was okay
one even offered me a ride
even in my worst moments of crises,
I always find a way to survive
even when I’m in the thick fog
of a mental breakdown
I know now how to take care
of myself and keep myself safe
maybe that was the lesson the universe
sent last night
even in my most hopeless of times
I will always find a way to survive
and eventually be okay
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
I couldn’t tell if you were nervous or just an asshole
trying to impress me with your knowledge
of shakespeare that came off as mansplaning
which was so cringe and annoying
since I told you I have a degree in English
and I had taken two Shakespeare classes
maybe you didn’t take me seriously
because of how short my dress was
or my thigh-high boots caught you off guard
is it some sort of abomination for me
to be smart and smoking hot
that men treat me like I’m a bimbo
they need to save or mansplain shit to
maybe I should start using it to my advantage
play the role of “pretty woman”
observe how much men underestimate me
and write poetry about it
and make it blog content a year later
I wrote this poem in September of 2023.
my heart is full of what ifs? What if it works out?
What if I’m not as dumb as I think I am?
What If I stop listening to the voices in my head
that taunt me-telling me I’m not good enough?
What if I’m brave enough today
and chase my dreams despite my haters
and my inner critic?
I wrote this poem in September of 2023.
The ME from June of 2014 sends me a message asking, where are you?
I tell her, life didn’t go as planned-you’re divorced and looking for a place for your ex
but your kids are thriving-your oldest son has his driver’s license and is on his last semester of college
Your middle son will graduate from high school this year-
and your baby is now taller than you and becoming his own person
You’re working 2 jobs and you’re a citizen now and you’ve been to therapy
to learn healthier coping mechanisms-
you even drive now-you’re independent as fuck and live life on your own terms
you’ve even been to Peru twice-
You’re learning to follow your intuition and how use discernment in your choices
in how you live your life-
you’ve discovered your values underneath everything society brainwashed into you
and at the end of the day all you want be is a good mom and a good person
that’s the extent of your life’s purpose-
now that we know who we are
our next step is to plan the future we want-
we’ll keep on thriving girl-you were the go getter and determined woman in me
Even among one of my greatest depressions
You still got up and followed your passions-
And you laid the foundation-we’ll be okay-I promise
I’ll make you proud of me-
Love patty
I wrote this poem in September of 2023.
Libra season is upon us as summer turns to fall-
a year ago, I was returning from my homeland
recharged and determined
2 years ago, I was angry and using my rage
to fuel my creativity and train for a 5k
and 3 years ago, I was a hot and exhausted
Emotional mess among the madness of COVID
And this Libra season, I’m entering it free from
the chains of matrimony
and every expectation my parents and society
has placed on me
This Libra season, I will honor and pay tribute
to my abuela Mercedes
for the independent and strong woman that she was
and celebrate my friends Melia and Quinn’s birthdays
show them how grateful I am for their existence
This Libra season, I’ll set intentions and manifestations
for the next 6 months for the life I dream of and envision
For myself and my sons
This Libra season I’m determined more than ever
to make miracles and magic happen-
And prove to myself and anyone who ever doubted me
that I’m not just a crazy and savage bitch
but I’m also a magical and intelligent one
who’s constantly evolving
escribí este poema en septiembre de 2023.
me haces sentir algo que pensé
era imposible
y casi me hundo en un mundo de remordimientos
Porque olvide mi promesa a nunca ser vulnerable
en creer en el amor-
pero ya es demasiado tarde, no hay marcha atras
estas hincado en mi sueños, mis pensamientos
y mi corazón
