I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
I could be the poster child for love fiascos-
I love too fast, and too hard-
I’m the fool of the tarot
risking everything even my sanity for love-
getting caught up in feelings and magic
being delusional that somehow it could work out
even when the red flags scream at me-
I say fuck it-I switch off the logic button in me
and go all in
December 19th is National Emo Day and I wanted to honor it by sharing my spotify playlist with my favorite Emo Songs. I started listening to Emo music when my best friend introduced me to Taking Back Sunday and Brand New in college. I liked the music but didn’t get into it until the summer of 2021. I remember I was on my summer staycation from hell and had this feeling of numbness and shock in my body as I was doing my power walk and no song was hitting the spot for me to feel something. I was also having a lot of intrusive and negative thoughts at the time so I was trying to feel something, anything to get out of my head and stay safe. None of the music I was listening to was hitting the spot and then I decided to try my former angry playlist and Cut without the E came on and omg my anger came out in full force. It was like this weird gift from the universe because well, I finally felt something and it was powerful. It feels strange to say that rage felt empowering to me but it did. It knocked me out of my self pity and hardcore suicidal ideation into my anger phase of the grief I was in and it was what I needed at the time. It was the song I needed to get me through one of the hardest times in my life. Anyways, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve listened to the album, “Tell All Your Friends” by Taking Back Sunday that summer. Then I rediscovered Brand New, and discovered Fallout Boy, Panic!At the Disco and the music really resonated with me. I always joke around with my friends that “maybe I just like these white boys yelling angry lyrics in my ear” lmao. But seriously, there is something about that white boy angst and anger that really hits the spot when I’m in a bad mood. Well, rap music also hits the spot but that’s another blog post. Lol. This summer I was actually lucky enough to see Taking Back Sunday with Third Eye Blind in concert with the same best friend who introduced me to TBS. It’s weird to say but it was one of the most joyous experiences of my life. It was one of the times when I was thankful of the intensity of emotions that comes with my BPD because when I’m happy, oh boy, it’s almost overwhelming but in a good way.
Below is a video of me in the summer of 2021 and the summer of 2022. There is a clear difference in both versions of me. I remember being so reactive and full of rage when I recorded the video where I’m in my room and immediately posting it on tik tok. I was in my “fuck the world” stage of grief. The video at the concert is me in this state of complete happiness and joy. I remember thinking “wow, I’m just really happy at this moment listening to this song. There is no room for anger in my heart”. It’s dramatic to say that it was cathartic for me but it was. To diminish that moment to something less than that would be invalidating what I felt at that moment.
Here is my spotify playlist of my favorite emo songs for your listening pleasure:
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
This time it will be different-I lie to myself over and over again-
and for a while I’ll believe it-but it never works out and they always leave-
And I wonder how words fail me when this happens-
it’s a magnitude of emotions-
Intense, mega, uber, all consuming, overwhelming-
Some things cannot adequately expressed even with bilingual vocabulary-
maybe not everything is meant to be written down
it’s just meant to be felt, held intimately in my heart and mind
maybe it’s a private thing between me and the universe
here’s the English version of this poem:
Poem: The Cold Shoulder
estancados en un purgatorio-no sabemos cómo continuar
entonces nos mentimos que todavía nos amamos
cuando ni siquiera nos aguantamos
me dices que estoy loca por admitir la verdad
pero me harte y prefiero parar de desperdiciar mi tiempo
en algo que me está sofocando y robando mi paz
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
In my car-I scream, sing, write, and cry
I dissociate to my radio-blasting out Conan Gray
I can be as crazy I as want to be-
without the fear of being judged or talked about
the seat is molded to my petite frame
perfect for meditation
or for allowing myself to fall into my insanity
makes videos about how beautiful life is-
or how I no longer want to participate in it
my car used to feed into my deepest fears
and insecurities
but now I worship it
if it wasn’t for this sacred space away
from my office and home
I don’t know how I would cope
when the intensity of my thoughts
knock on my mind’s door
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
fragments of who I was weave in and out of my prose and poetry-
I keep trying to honor the old me
when she comes back with my insecurities
and reminds me of how I constantly screw up anything
resembling love
I no longer shame her or call her the worst version of me-
she was just trying to navigate life not understanding
she was an undiagnosed hurricane of emotions-
that couldn’t control or manage
She didn’t go to therapy or know about DBT
And she’s still full of grief for the life she couldn’t live-
so she keeps on showing up trying to shake up
my newfound confidence and power
it’s her version of jealousy, and I walk with her for a while
Console her, and let her know how because of her
I did the work, and now she can feel happiness and joy through me
I will forever be grateful to her and pay tribute to her when I tell her story
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
my transformation and rebirth meant giving voice to my shadow
who’s vindictive, petty, and mean
I’ve never really allowed her to breathe
much less be seen
and now she’s almost everywhere-
taking space in uncomfortable spaces
learning she’s not bad-
she just needed attention and to feel valued
I’ve finally accepted she’s an important part of me
who needs to be seen
As I sit here squished in my writing space because the damn Christmas tree is taking up the other side of the room, I still feel incredibly blessed and fortunate that I’m writing this post about how the 11th year of blogging was. To still be here telling my story though this platform with the most incredible followers is a true blessing. To the many people who have been supportive of me as I vomit out some of the cringiest and craziest shit, y’all are the real MVPs. I feel so encouraged and loved by every like or comment. I would say that it was a low key year because I didn’t experiment as much as I wanted to. What I did do is tell my story from January of 2022 through December of 2022 with my poetry along with my translated poems from my early writing days. I’ve translated a total of 215 pages of poetry from 1997 to 2004. It’s been a challenge for sure but it was important for me to take on this project because it allows me to reconnect with my first language in a creative way. Also, my main purpose for taking on this project is because I’d love for my parents and other Spanish speaking relatives in Peru to be able to read my poetry. I’d even started putting some of these poems on tik tok which has been somewhat of an interesting experiment considering I don’t know what I’m doing and still figuring out the best way to create content there. I guess one could say that I’m passionate about telling my story. Here’s my tiktok handle if y’all want to check it out: https://www.tiktok.com/@lagringachola81
Another new thing I did this year is start using my real name on this blog and across all of my social media. After my divorce, aka, my liberation day, I was finally able to let go of my pseudonym Eliza Dalton and use my real name Patty Tacuri. So, hi everyone, my name is Patty and I have issues. I love to use that opening line at open mic. Lol.
I’ve also been going to open mic at my local pub and it’s helped me connect with other poets which has helped me grow as a writer and poet. Being up there on that stage sharing the most vulnerable parts of myself has felt incredibly empowering and healing. I’m grateful to the Athens Word of Mouth community who’s been so open and receptive to whatever trauma laden or angry poem I decide to read that night.
As to what kind of blog content I have planned for 2024, I plan to leave the format as it is in telling my story of 2023 and including the translated pieces in between those poems. I hope that I can do more collaborations and review some more poetry books. I don’t have much more planned than that but who knows, sometimes my crazy mind comes up with the most off the wall ideas and an unexpected playlist or an essay about some kind of trauma happens. I know that in 2024, I want to be more open and vulnerable in telling my story and how my recovery journey has been going. We’ll see what happens. I can tell you that this blog is my happy place and something that keeps me going when my depression wants to get the better of me. Planning blog content this year has kept me grounded more times than I can count this year especially with some of the big emotions that have come up with the major life events I’ve had. It’s become part of my recovery process from mental illness and a safe space for me to be honest and vulnerable. Also, since I’m such a main character now, haha, I decided to give y’all a preview about what’s to come next year in telling my story. I’m calling it the twelve days of Patty starting on December 20th. Again, I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read my crazy and sometimes cringe poetry. To my fellow bloggers, poets,and storytellers-my message for you is to keep going! Your art and stories are important!
aqui esta la version en espanol:
Poesia: Vete de Aqui
We’ve lost our beginner’s luck and now see who we really are
two incompatible souls too stubborn to be alone
and let go of our made up illusion of love
and between our uncomfortable silences,
your distant demeanor, and my growing resentment
it’s better to close our chapter of love
before I start to really hate you
let’s end this while we can still walk away as friends
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
I’m tired of same repetitive compliments
You’re so pretty, so sexy and if they’re really “trying”
you’re BEAUTIFUL
but never in my life
have i been call a masterpiece, intelligent,
or have I been told that I inspire poetry?
and old lonely me would entertain
these flimsy lust or love possibilities
kept my standards low to keep my bed warm
and to escape my chronic emptiness
but after almost a year of solitude
my standards have been raised to the ceiling
and now I’m protective of my energy
anyone who wants to get near me
will have to make a solid effort
write me poetry, take me out to steak dinners
and buy me pretty dresses and notebooks
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
It wasn’t that I wouldn’t have done the work-
I loved you more than enough to change, to accommodate
to make compromises, to share my vulnerability with you
but you weren’t ready to match my efforts
and love only grows when two people are ready to evolve
aqui esta la version de este poema en espanol:
Poesia: Cansada
you’re running out of time to give me a place in your life-
and I’m running out of patience and love to keep waiting
Were your promises lies to keep me by your side?
were your words falsehoods to keep your place as my savior,
my hero who loves to save me from myself?
a hero who’s really a coward- too scared to make a commitment
as my permanent lover
Life on the BPD 