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poetry: new year’s day

I wrote this poem in January of 2023.

me in January of 2023

On new year’s day of 2023,I have resolutions but they’re simple
a trip to my homeland that’s been set in stone
teaching my son to drive
a divorce as a late birthday gift to myself
keep my bangs because that’s really who I am
pushing my oldest son to be more independent
Continue to share my poetry with the world unapologetically
Be wary of anything that pollutes my energy
try my best to ebb and flow with the turbulent waves of my emotions
take any obstacles that might occur in life in stride
make more time for my friends and family
become a new kind of brave woman
and continue to do things out of my comfort zone
to help me grow and evolve
become an example of determination, discipline, and creativity for my kids
to follow-
and continue to inspire others with my journey of self discovery
2023 will be chaotic with everything I’m planning
2023 will be the year where I’m the definition of bravery

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day twelve of patty: silence is no longer an option

I wrote this poem in December of 2023.

sharing my story is my life’s purpose

silence is no longer an option
if I continue to do so, I’d be suffocating the part of me
who needs to be heard in order to heal
I’d be failing myself, my ancestors, and future generations
silence is no longer an option
to do so is an act of violence against the writer and poet in me
whose purpose is to tell my story, my truth in order to recover

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poetry: transparency

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

I want you at the front row at open mic

I want the transparency of your being-
the stuff you won’t show anyone else
the secrets you’re afraid to share
I want your vulnerability in our intimacy
Even if you think it’s messy or cringy
I promise I won’t judge and there will be no need
for sorries
now that I’m falling for you
I want to know every part of you
I won’t do what the others have done to you or me
I’ll stay because love means loyalty and honesty

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day eleven of patty: me and my trauma

I wrote this poem in november of 2023.

it’s me and my trauma-watch out, there won’t be a story left untold

I hold hands with my trauma and show her off to everyone
most people look at her with curiosity
some people are horrified
my family cringes and and whispers to me,
“it’s embarrassing, showing her as some kind of trophy”
I get mad and flip everyone off
and me and my trauma link arms and skip on our way
to share her story and create drama and chaos
who cares if no one understands our process
of how sharing her story is the key to my recovery

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day ten of patty: mixed signals

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

don’t mess with a poet-you’ll become her muse whether you like it or not

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

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day nine of patty: june 2014 me

I wrote this in september of 2023.

2014 me is proud of who we are now

The ME from June of 2014 sends me a message and 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 accounting at Athens Tech-
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

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day seven of patty: marie antoinette

I wrote this poem in July of 2023.

that working class and immigrant rage is no joke

she thinks she should be thanked for flexing her confidence
clothed in privilege and luxury by posting advice to women
about how dining alone in a fancy restaurant is women’s empowerment
and I have an adverse reaction that makes me want to vomit
it feels like a modern day Marie Antoniette moment
perhaps it’s because I’m a working class immigrant woman
who struggles in America
perhaps it’s because the rights of the marginalized and working class
are being ripped away from us
and on my social media feed, this yuppie and elitist bullshit appears
how can I be friends with this bleached blonde Barbie
oh yeah, we worked together briefly
and I almost start to comment with an essay on how she should
check her privilege before handing out tokens of toxic positivity
while people like me are drowning in debt and lack financial stability
but I stop
this barbie isn’t worth my time or energy
it’s time to unfriend and unfollow the marie antoinette wannabe
who only serves to trigger my working class rage
who serves to remind of the injustice and inequality
in this capitalistic and racist American society

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poetry: expansion

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

no hard feelings-just wishing y’all the best

my hearts expands wishing nothing but the best for my exes

I hope that one guy got to recovery and he’s settled with a nice girl
he met at church and they live somewhere in the country

I pray that one dude found someone nice and calm like him
to share a life with

I wish the latest one found someone who’s not crazy
he’s in love someone who brings stability and routine to his life

but most of all, I wish all of them to live their lives authentically and with purpose

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poetry: christmas day 2022

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

my boys are everything to me

Relief comes after a nap on Christmas day
I woke up with so much joy and warmth in my heart
I feel like I’m standing on top of a mountain I’ve been climbing forever
A mountain climb that’s had a most treacherous uphill
and loaded with many obstacles I’ve stumbled and fallen from many times
but the universe, God presented me this gift of contentment for my life
the understanding that everything had to happen for this reason
to live in my childhood dreams of having my own family
who brings me love and purpose every day of my existence

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day four of patty: mortal

I wrote this poem in April of 2023.

it’s okay to make mistakes-it’s part of being human

I almost drowned in a whirlpool of shame today because I made a mistake
because I’m an imperfect human
but I breathe in deeply self compassion and grace
and accept this is a small blunder in my life
and it shouldn’t take up too much space in my mind
And I needed to be a friend to myself
Understand I won’t always be flawless-
Afterall I’m only mortal

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poetry: delusional

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

truth be told…lol

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

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poetry: private thing

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

pouty Pisces

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

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poetry: sacred space

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

I probably just got done crying right before this pic was taken

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

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poetry:nightmare

Aqui esta la version en espanol:

Poesia: Callar

our love dream has turned into a nightmare of stagnancy and routine
I walk carefully on eggshells to not disturb your peace so you don’t leave-
Is this how love is supposed to be?
More questions than answers, more confusion than clarity
More tears than laughter-
I want to stay for the sake of our family
but I’m starting to burn with resentment and anger