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poetry: brave bitch

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

brave bitches take selfies in their bikinis

after everything was done and dusted,
all that was left were the memories of the woman I had been-
I used to hate her, absolutely loathe her
viewing her as weak and worthless
for allowing the painful words of others
to rob her of her confidence and power
but now I see how brave she was
trying to fight her demons in her mind
Day in and day out, no matter what
always getting up to function
she gathered her strength from somewhere
to become the version of me I am today

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poetry: sweet and sour

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

I’m a woman of many talents

The sweetness of life has me on a euphoric high
where everything and everyone is wonderful
where nothing or noone can bring me down
And I feel like a goddess, a bad bitch, a Queen
I live for moments like this where happiness is my best friend
But then the sourness of life happens
and I’m brought down to a hell of depression and despair
Where I hate everything and everyone
Where everything weighs me down
and I’m losing my mind
And I feel worthless, crazy and like a selfish bitch

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poetry: the old patty died a while ago

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

“I wanna live life from a new perspective” -Panic! At the Disco

old trauma wounds swim up to the surface
Triggered by a thoughtless comment
a dismissive action
and I speak up this time instead of holding it in
But I’m ignored
as if my hurt feelings mean nothing
But this time, instead of letting it go
and going with the flow
I reciprocate the same dismissive energy
because the version of me
Who’d allow herself to be run over
just to be accepted no longer exists

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: aura

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

the color of my aura

My aura is a bright orange red
it means I’m passionate, it means I get angry easily
it means I have the most intense energy
and while I joke how my soul is black
my aura tells a different story
It tells a story of a woman who loves hard
who’s an emotional mess at times
Who fosters a unique strength and resilience to go on
Who’s a fucking Goddess

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poetry: hold me

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

“found the puzzle piece and feel completed”-Joji

hold me until I forget about how this story usually ends
With me having a meltdown and crying
and you leaving cause you can’t handle it
Hold me until I find enough courage to trust you
to be vulnerable and soft with you
Hold me until you make me believe in love again

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: hopeless

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

unapologetic mutha fucka

I want to scream, I want to cry
I want to throw myself off the precipice of some cliff
but faith whispers to me
“You will not always feel like this”
and slowly I begin to piece myself back together
and It’s hard at first because I don’t know where to start
Because so much in me is shattered and scattered
But somehow I know that faith is by my side
and hope will quickly follow
and I won’t always feel so lonely, so hopeless

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poetry: fire of anxiety

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

“One day I’ll be falling without caution”- Conan Gray

in front of our fireplace we remember who we once were
the unhealed and unhealthy versions of ourselves who met
And threw caution to the wind and fell in love
Built our own sanctuary of intimacy
only to give in to our insecurity and fears
and sabotage it all years later and tear it all down
and while we’ve said
It needs to be left in the past
it’s not who we are anymore
We both live with the hidden fear
One or both of us will break again
And brings a war of words
back to our newly constructed universe of love

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poetry: at war with myself

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

Old insecurities come to visit me again,
they shake up my newly acquired confidence
they tell me I’m not smart enough and I’ll never be truly loved
They tell the only thing I have going for me is how sexy I can be
Otherwise I’m a waste of a person because of my bpd
And I try to shut it all down and not once again drown
Because I have made so much progress and have come so far
Only to once again fight an anxiety and depression war
but it’s daunting not to let the negativity get to me
So here I go once again trying to calm down my brain
from intense and intrusive thoughts by covering myself with self love

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poetry: the cost

I wrote this in May of 2022.

the cut that always bleeds-conan gray

What’s the cost of being authentically me?
not everyone will like me, lovers will run away from me
I have a hard time finding someone who accepts me
but it’s fine, it’s okay
my worth means more to me than anyone
who wants me to swallow parts of myself
to accommodate to them
because my self-esteem means more than acting
like someone else’s dream
so maybe the cost of being truly me is low
compared to the parts of my true self
I would lose for false friendships and false loves

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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 · 2 Comments

poetry: she wolf

aqui esta versión en Español:

poesía: loba

I’m a lone brunette wolf in a world full of blonde sheep
my exes always preferred blondes over me
I never knew exactly why
perhaps blondes really do have more fun
perhaps blondes are easier to manipulate
this used to bother me greatly,
even robbed me of my sanity and sleep
but eventually I had a great epiphany
the one meant for me will not just love how sweet I can be
He’ll also love and encourage the savage in me
he’ll know how to ride the turbulent waves of my mood swings
I’m not sure if I’ll meet him soon or if he even exists
but after this grand epiphany
I no longer care about my exes and their blonde sheep
In fact, I wish them all the best fairytale ending

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poetry: white women

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

thank God for driving and writing-

almost cried out anger today
but instead went for a drive
a good choice for me and who I wanted to kill
blasted my music and screamed
“I fucking hate white women”
they seem to be a thorn in my side
all the fucking time
focusing on my mistakes
and snitching to my boss
pretending to be friend
never apologizing when they hurt me
constantly trying to bring me down
trying to make me feel less than
and while I hate how much they affect me
at least today I’m grateful that today my hatred for them  inspired me
to write this poem

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poetry: on the shitty days

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

on the shitty days I remember there is another open mic to go to

not every day can be filled with peace, calm, joy or excitement
Some days are absolutely shitty and depressing
Some days it’s hard to get up in the morning
without screaming fuck repeatedly on your way to work
Some days are overwhelming to push through
as hormones and emotions fuck you up
Some days are for questioning your life choices over
and over again allowing doubt and insecurity
to cloud you its accomplice self invalidation
Some days are for getting up only to look forward to the end of it
when you can sleep with the hope for a better day

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: dreams and goals

I wrote this sometime in 2006 when I was contemplative about life.

stop waiting

dreams and goals are important
without them life doesn’t have purpose
without them we get stuck in a routine of misery
Without them we end up projecting our insecurities on others
and making ourselves the victims of our lives