Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Blanket of Lies

I wrote this poem in June of 2022.

Cover me with a blanket of lies and tell me you love me
tell me I’m the only one for you
and false promises about you’ll never leave
and how you’re not like the other guys
Love me at your convenience, love me when I’m easy
I’ll believe the fantasy and play my role
of the perfect and polite princess
until one day, I grow out of my role and explode
and I’ll discover once again
you’re like everyone else
who can only stand me for a short while
and accuse me of being a crazy bitch and leave

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: unfriended

I wrote this poem in June of 2025.

putting in bold letters I support ICE in your facebook profile pic
I quickly unfriended yours and your husband’s joint facebook account
the one created after he stepped out on you
and karma was served to you for being a homewrecker
several years ago
the one created to keep tabs on him so he wouldn’t do it again
and as I write this, I almost laugh hysterically
because of course it makes sense that you support Trump, ICE,
and everyone who wants to destroy and rips rights away from everyone
who’s not white and straight
After all, didn’t you yourself tear a family apart?
so it makes perfect sense
also I always wondered who the other woman was
from your hateful vitriol of immigrants and latinas
she must be one hell of a Latina who almost took your man

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poetry: different

I wrote this poem in May of 2025.

from my favorite movie “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”

Wish I could say I’m a chill and cool kind of girl when it comes to love
but I’m not
because once I’m into you and I let you in
it will be hard to get rid of me
because I am a nurturer and I’ll love you with my whole heart
and I’ll make you the center of my world and find ways for us to get closer
wait, wait, wait
this version of me no longer exist
she went up in flames a few years back
Nowadays, the slightest sirens go off in me and I want to run away and block him
Cease and desist any evidence of him, the slightest offence
and it takes everything out of me to remember my skills learned in therapy
Tell him, I need a bit of time to process and we’ll talk in the morning
I know that after a good night’s sleep, I’ll look at things differently
and won’t fuck up my new love story because of a single simple misunderstanding

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: silence

I wrote this poem in May of 2025.

I punish the men in my life with silence
I learned it from my mom
she’d last days without saying a word to my dad
after a fight
always waited until he broke down and apologized
she always needed to win
and while I’m not as brutal as her
I need to protect myself when a man makes me feel
like I’m not good enough, like I’m a monster
so I walk away calm and give a silence so deafening
they’re ask a million questions why
they’ll search answers in between the lines
of the posts I write
and if they’re smart enough and get the hint,
they’ll stay away from me

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: next time

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

next time, next time, next time
I won’t live in the should haves,
could haves, would haves

next time, next time, next time
I’ll live in my present
and not in my past or future

next time, next time, next time
I won’t feel useless, worthless
or like I’m not enough

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: nunca

escribí poema en enero del 2025.

aceptando ESTA realidad fue dura

nunca será la mujer de tu vida y me toca aceptar esta realidad
que alguien como tu siempre me mirara como alguien común
y nunca pensarás que quizás soy algo más que una mujer bella
nunca notaras que soy el fuego de inspiración que puede ser tu musa

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poetry: even

I wrote this poem in 2021.

Even after she’s destroyed
she goes to work the next day
plasters a fake smile on her face

Even after she’s devastated
she gathers the pieces of her heart
and reluctantly shows up
where she’s needed

Even after she’s knocked down
she gets up cloaked in strength
and continues to move forward
with a brand new determination

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poetry: mess

I wrote this poem in January of 2025.

my uncle’s death has awakened something in me
and while I think he was mostly good and don’t judge him
I’m sad he didn’t live his life authentically
I’m sad he couldn’t bring himself to leave his loveless marriage
I’m sad he hurt his second wife by cheating on her with the first
I’m sad that for more than half a century he was deeply in love
with a woman he could never have
I wonder what would have happened if my uncle made it to therapy
and tamed his demons
I wonder if eventually he could’ve found some happiness and love
in his life or perhaps I’m wrong
and he was content with the mess he was inside

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poetry: beyond redemption

I wrote this poem in January of 2025.

the kind of energy this poem brings

under a tequila sunrise in L.A,he breaks apart once again
she committed the ultimate act of treason against him
and he couldn’t forgive her again
this time he couldn’t put a bandaid of his love
to make it all better
this time he had a son to think about
this time his family would disown him if he stayed with her
so he packed up her stuff, put the boxes and suitcases
of her belongings outside
changed the locks and filed for divorce
even as he broke inside, he held all of his emotions in
and even though he considered her the grand love of his life
he had to cut all ties with her
this time she hadn’t just broken law of not just decency
and morality with her actions
this time her horrid actions made her beyond redemption
this time she had gone too far

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poetry: left behind

I wrote this poem in December of 2024.

I used to find it romantic and endearing how in Hollywood stories
the protagonists triumphs over insurmountable obstacles
to find their happy endings
until I notice there’s always a third party who’s left behind
a third party who’s expendable and the cost
of the happy ending the protagonist are granted
it makes me wretched with empathy and feel grief for them
because too often, I’ve known what it’s like to be left
for someone prettier, shinier, easier, MORE EXCITING
and I wonder if it’s time to write stories about them
the third parties left behind who didn’t make the cut
in their lover’s love story

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poetry: the muse

I wrote this poem in December of 2020.

The words, the phrases, the sentences seep from me
when I think of you, my muse

Words of hate, words of love,
Words of devastation, words of lust

You inspire everything that is great,
You inspire everything that I hate

Spilled phrases about my desire for you
and my disgust for you fills pages of my journal

I hate him, I love him, I can’t live without him
Phrases that bleed from my our toxic love af

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poetry: regret

I wrote this poem in December of 2019.

I see your face in my mind
and all I feel is your regret
for the time wasted on you

Regret
for sharing my vulnerability with you

Regret
For the tears that you never deserved

Regret
For the energy I put into us

Regret
That I ignored your red flags

Regret
For the fucks I can’t take back

Regret
For memories I can’t erase

Regret
For wasting my love
on a waste of space human being

below is the Spanish Translation

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: david

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

me in 2002 thinking I’m in love with Lucas-ew

I had fallen in love with brown and hazel eyes
Before the disaster with blue eyes walked into my life
Those blue eyes would make me believe in love again
Those blue eyes would be the first to make me want to die of shame and guilt
and cause more trauma than he ever intended
Then again, I was only twenty
and there were a dozen years between us
he should have known better than to fuck
with a girl who was barely a woman
but carnal desire ruled both him and I
And we were tricked thinking it was love
but we were completely wrong
and he got to walk away without any consequences
While I was slut shamed and had to endure the trauma