I have a bad habit of making poetry out of almost anything it’s annoying, it’s cringe, and downright embarrassing at times how shameless I can be it teethers between the line of genius and insanity This monster of creativity of mine from trauma to my kids to childhood memories To the latest villain in my story to office supplies To my dreams to the trees to the clouds To my kroger apron to energy drinks To that ex from my 20s No one and nothing is saved from being used as a fountain of inspiration for my creativity Sometimes it’s a curse, sometimes it’s a blessing Most of the time, it’s just downright entertaining
In my children’s bible I was introduced to Jesus and his love for everyone I wanted to be like Jesus- and love and accept everyone as they are but I’m human and I can’t especially as the years pass by and I’m harmed by those who claim to love me it’s when all of my dreams quickly dissipate and slowly I grow bitter and full of mental illness maybe this is my tragic destiny from wannabe saint to a scorned woman who only dreams of revenge
I close and open my heart at my moods and hormones’ convenience on a tightrope of vulnerability where I tend to fall off from and I have a tendency to blame 80s and 90s music and movies that taught me that if you’re good enough, if you’re pretty enough the right guy will fall for you and you’ll get your happy ending
I longed and longed and longed to feel whole until I planted my feet on the soil I was born on until I breathed the air my parents and ancestors inhaled until I tasted flavors from almost a lifetime ago I longed and longed and longed to feel whole until I returned to my homeland and it was the piece of the puzzle found I needed to finally complete me
2014 me in the blue hoodie-2023 me in the red dress,
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
today I woke up overwhelmed, exhausted and in a fit of rage feeling underappreciated in all of my efforts to move my family forward not remembering the last time I had a full day of rest wondering how to continue this existence of 60 something work weeks, and of course the guilt over not spending enough time with my kids- I was downtrodden with grief and mad at the world until my abuela’s story made its way to a conversation with my coworker and a small light of hope dawned on me if my illiterate and indigenous abuela Mercedes, alone in the world could make generational wealth in the early 1900s despite the racism, the obstacles, and many tragedies faced I, too. will not only survive but will also thrive and continue to shine my light it’s in my bloodline, my ancestry to evolve, push myself forward despite obstacles, mental illness, or life’s tragedies-IT’S UP TO ME! as a Peruvian woman living in America in the 21st century to make the best of what’s been given to me which sometimes feels like the sourest of maize and turn them in the sweetest and tastiest Chicha
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
I long to run free in a world free from prejudice and pride I long to run free in a world free from judgment and ignorance I long to run free in a world that accepts people like me I long to run free in a world where I’m not hypervigilant about toning myself down
I’m looking forward to that pisco sour I’ll have after the judge declares me divorced and free to remarry -ha- that’s the biggest joke ever maybe I’ll land in someone’s bed once again But a ring on my finger -NEVER!- not in this lifetime, not as long as I breathe instead I’ll claim my single status And relish in it as long as I can
Crushes–we all get them at some point or another. It doesn’t matter if we’re 13 or 43. They’re unfortunate or fortunate circumstances in our lives depending on how we look at them. I’ve had more of my share of them, and of course, there’s a playlist I listen to when that happens. As jaded in love as I am, there’s a small part of me that’s still a lovergirl. I’ve tried every way to squash the lovergirl in me but apparently it’s resistant to all of the misandrist poetry I write and all of the books I read about hating men and how love is just the most terrible thing in the world. So I’ve just learned to just let her be and write corny AF love poetry and listen to the most romantic music even if it’s nauseating to me. One of my friends told me the nausea part is some kind of trauma response, and she’s probably right, but that’s another blog post for a later time. Anyways,here’s a few poems I wrote about having a crush and my lover girl playlist. The playlist is filled with that, “wtf, I have butterflies in my stomach at my age, let’s goooo!!!” kind of energy or “lmao,I’m living some kind of modern Victorian infatuation story or I’m straight up delusional” energy. My most recent crushes have been on Ben Affleck, Benjamin Franklin(cause I’m a materialistic bitch) and of course, Yung Gravy. See y’all, I’m not always a hater when it comes to love (contrary to a lot of what y’all see in the blog) , I, too, have a little romantic girl somewhere in me. Maybe I could manifest that Ben Affleck, Yung Gravy, or a millionaire, sees this blog post, gets a crush on ME and makes their way to my hometown and takes me away in their private jet.
Here are the poems:
Not in my plans
I didn’t mean to, it wasn’t in my plans for self improvement But I fell for you in spring I don’t even know when it started to happen All I remember is absolutely hating it hated how soft and corny it made me hated how I started smiling at your messages hated how you started to melt my jadedness about love and how I finally felt like love was a possibility for me
5/2/23
it’s me on a quest to find my Travis Kelce
Fight with the romantic girl
The romantic in me riots and protests and says this solitary confinement is bullshit It’s been over a year since we’ve been intimate with anyone or felt a romantic connection and I try to reason with her “We’re still healing and we’ like to stay emotionally regulated And healthy” and she yells, “no it’s time to take all of our therapy skills out for test drive and find someone we vibe with’ And I answer, “but we’re not” And she screams, “stop with your excuses go find the next muse of your poetry
7/29/23
wondering who my next Ace of Cups will be
So embarrassing
thought I was done with this part of my life accepted solitude was now my new life but you had to smile at me butterflies appear and I want to vomit my heart races every time you’re near And ugh, I fucking hate you for this so embarrassing at my age to crush on someone so hard and to write poems about a new unrequited love And I tried to ignore and quell this feeling but you have the audacity to appear in my dreams maybe it’s your fire energy, maybe it’s your poetry I’m not sure exactly what it is but fuck you for bringing out the romantic in me
2024
I have honestly done this more than a few times this year-I have issues according to Google
Lover Girl Playlist: Ew -Crush Culture
Crush Culture-Conan Gray I’m not in love- Will to Power Begin Again- Taylor Swift Bad Habit-Steve Lacy The Prophecy- Taylor Swift Late Night Talking-Harry Styles Sanctuary-Joji Dreaming of You-Selena Nonsense- Sabrina Carpenter Overdrive- Conan Gray Still Falling for You- Ellie Goulding Ceilings- Lizzie Alpine People Watching- Conan Gray Footnote-Conan Gray Dress-Taylor Swift Means Something- Lizzy McAlpine Enchanted- Taylor Swift Clementine-Yung Gravy The Louvre-Lorde Pessimist- Julia Michaels Risk-Gracie Abrams HOT TO GO-Chappell Roan Mastermind- Taylor Swift So High School- Taylor Swift Still Chose You- The Kid LAROI Invisible String-Taylor Swift Long Story Short-Taylor Swift So American-Olivia Rodrigo Disaster- Conan Gray Lover- Taylor Swift
Below is are the links for Spotify and YouTube in case you do want to get in touch with your inner romantic:
Crush Culture makes me want to spill my guts out-Conan Gray
My bra is the milkshake that brings men to my playground It gives me the cleavage that makes them feel like they’re in love They’ll claim it’s my words or my eyes they’re in love with , but let’s not kid ourselves It’s really my majestic breasts that pop out with their own personalities they fuel their many exotic and erotic fantasies
Flowers bloom with patience and care where there is sunlight and love Flowers remind me of relationships when relationships are not given the right environment or patience and love They die I’m a failure at both-
Am I doomed to men trying me on just so they can change their minds- days, weeks, months, years later is it some kind of karmic energy in me I still haven’t found the remedy for? Perhaps I really need to stop trying to find hope in love and stick to what’s working for me and that’s being alone
Life on the BPD 