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Poetry: An Act of Rebellion

I wrote this in December 2021.

once you get your wings, there’s no going back

Believing in myself feels like an act of rebellion
after years of self loathing and self destruction
I finally feel enough and complete
Is this some kind of dream?
Do I really love myself?
Do I really accept myself?
Do I really care about myself?
I do and I do and I do
I’m ready to live out my truth
I’m complicated and complex
and not terrible or a hot mess
I’ve been forever misjudged
and thought I was too much
The reality of my authenticity
Brings out a new transparency
I was never too much or not enough
or even the hardest to love
I might be a complicated puzzle to solve
But I’m always, always, worthy of love

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Poetry: I Was Never the Marrying Kind

I wrote this in December of 2021.

I’m grateful for every past version of myself …

I was never the marrying kind
Don’t know why I forced myself into that line
Maybe because of society’s expectations
I made marriage my destination
But it wasn’t really who I ever was
Forever is not meant to be in my book of love
But still I tried for seven years
And by year 7, I ran into my biggest fear
I felt trapped in a cage of my own making
Happiness, contentment, and authenticity I was faking
But it was never truly me
Living this suburban reality
And one day I wanted to sleep forever
My mind collapsed from society’s pressure
to continue this facade of being the perfect wife
With my perfectly imperfect life
My authenticity I had to put aside
I’m a wife and mother of three
There’s no such thing as being free
But these were the lies I told myself
The critic in me I learned to quell
I learned I could be a mother but not a wife
My husband took our relationship’s demise in stride
There would no more anniversaries
We were done with self imposed forgeries
And a new chapter started with us
One full of laughter, friendship and familial love

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December Poetry Challenge: Arrival

This is my response to prompt #11: A goal you reached

I know my worth..now fuck off 🤣🤣🤣

Getting rid off my self imposed chains of insecurity and doubt
I no longer give any fucks-I no longer hold back
I announce my arrival when I drive, when I make love, and when I blog
I’m liberated from the chaos I used to cause
and have accepted sometimes an attention whore or an introvert
and it’s okay to swing between both
as long as I honor my truth and know my worth

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Poetry: Tell ME

Aqui esta en enlace para la version en Espanol:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/11/22/poesia-dime/

Why did you break our romantic ties?
What did she have to make you leave me suddenly?
Why do I keep repeating the same stupid story,
of finding myself the woman used and scorned?
I’m fucking exhausted with rage
always making the same mistake over and over again
giving all of my myself to another confused man
who leaves me when I’m no longer easy

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

December Poetry Challenge: My Grown Up Reality

This is my response to prompt #14: What did you think you’d be when you grew up

me in November of this year right before the Taylor Swift dance party in town

When I imagined my happily ever after-
it never looked like my current reality
a mother of 3 with 2 jobs, on the brink of divorce,
with 5 mental health diagnosis
and yet, I stand here with contentment in my heart
and appreciation for the life I’m living
I may not have grown up to live the life I envisioned
but I’m still proud of who I’ve become

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Poetry: Patience

I wrote this in December of 2021.

always reinvent yourself

Patience eludes me
I want to run and jump
to the next chapter of my life
the chapter where I’m the victor
and not the victim
the chapter where I’m a winner
and not a failure
but I need to appreciate the journey
and accept that the bumps along the way
Help me savor the next chapter
full of victories and maybe even love
Patience is a necessary virtue
for the growth and progress
necessary for the next chapter

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December Poetry Challenge: A Slow Death

This is my response to prompt #10: One thing you could not give up

Don’t ask me to give up writing….EVER

You might as well do radical lobotomy
before you make me give up writing
You’d be asking me to give up
one of the things I most love–
my creativity with poetry and prose
brings me purpose and meaning on my good days
and helps me stay alive on my bad days
so if you ever ask me to give up my paper and pen
Understand you’d be asking for my slow death

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Poetry: The Ultimate Queen

I wrote this in December of 2021.

And those flames burn 🔥 😍

At 40, I feel like the ultimate Queen
after losing layers and layers of my princess skin
The broken princess I had to beat
to finally feel enough and complete
Friends and men full of duplicity
Have no place in my world of authenticity
I no longer wear my crown of guilt and shame
It caused me too much emotional pain
Instead I wear a crown of confidence and power
being true to myself is my superpower
Fuck anyone who thinks I’m too much or not enough
You assholes were never deserving of my love
I am the ultimate Queen
and I’m finally making myself seen

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December Poetry Challenge: The Whisper

This is my response to prompt #6: An important person in your life

A Beautiful Autumn Afternoon in Georgia

I find God everywhere lately
in the autumn wind that blows leaves whimsically
in lyrics that evokes intense emotions in me
in the excitement I feel every morning
in my newfound peace and serenity
God is a whisper always reminding me
life is worth living if I keep trying, if I keep going

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Poetry: Forgotten Magic

I wrote this in December of 2021.

me on my run in December of 2021

There is a certain magic in nature I forget about
Feeling the wind in your face running
while listening to my favorite song
It reminds me what a gift it is to be alive

Observing the miniature toad in the creek that hasn’t
been washed away by the many harsh elements around it;
It gives me hope I too can survive the really hard times,

Smelling the rain before a storm,there will be a rainbow after it
that is how life is, there are better times after the worst of times

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December Poetry Challenge: The Truth about My BPD Recovery Journey

This is my response to prompt #5: Something you know something a lot

where is my honorary degree tho?

Where is my honorary degree in my BPD recovery ?
I’ve read more books than I’ve cared to-
I’ve acknowledged more toxic patterns than I wanted to-
And I’m almost an expert at DBT
But I still have days when I think it’s all bullshit
I still have times I miss the chaos in my life
so I know I still have a long way to go in this journey
and it’s needed to fulfill my potential
I need to let go of anything that caused me harm
and say goodbye to who I once was
Thanks to this recovery journey
I’m self aware, I’m full of self compassion,
I’m going to become the best version of myself

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Poetry: The Modern Southern Woman

I wrote this in 2016.

me in 2016 when I wrote this poem

Faulkner wrote about her ancestors
She stood like a pillar of strength between her mother and daughter
She stood strong as both of them held her arms that were their life jackets
as they drowned in endless sorrows
Tears silently fell from her face as her father laid in his closed home
And the reverend went on about him being in a better place
And her strength did not falter,
She let her loved ones hold on tight while she tried to blink away tears ,
She swallowed her pain and absorbed the pain from those around her
She wasn’t just strong for her mother and daughter,
but she was a goddess of strength among the mere mortals
around her that wept

Posted on by pattytacuri · 7 Comments

Poetry: The Latina Thing

I wrote this in September of 2019 after I read somewhere about some politician making fun of AOC for doing the “Latina Thing”. It annoyed the fuck out of me.

what I think of the haters

Make fun of our accents-

Make fun of our names-

But y’all never have our rich history

Call us feisty, caliente, spicy

Call us fiery, loud, sexy

But y’all will never have the exotic magic

we carry within ourselves

Try to bully us into silence

Try to put us down 

with racist and ignorant insults

But y’all will never have 

our immigrant work ethic

or ingrained determination

Try to stereotype us-

Try to make us feel less than

Try to kill us-

But y’all never kill our chingona spirit

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: Small

I wrote this in 2007 when I transferred to a 4 year University. It was a rough experience.

me with my friends in 2007

I feel small in this enormous and elitist world
it doesn’t seem like I will ever fit
It only seems like a perfect fit
for my younger, blonder, whiter,
and younger counterparts
Older, hispanic, and poor is not acceptable here.
Should I even try ?
When I’m destined for failure on this institution’s steps
Failure on the steps is what I feel here-
a place where my browner, poorer self
feels like an outcast, an undesirable- by the eyes of prejudice