I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
this time I’ll give myself permission
to let my body explore pleasure
with someone else
telling myself,
“This time I’m keeping it casual,
it’s nothing serious, it’s not a big deal”
I’m just ready to once again
share my sexual magic
write erotic poems about a human
and not my vibrator
it’s time to break my vow of celibacy
and let someone in on my sexual energy
I wrote this poem in 2005 for my creative writing classes. Idk what I was thinking saying they were better than tacos. BLASPHEMY!
Nachos and cheese
Puts my tummy at ease
that salty taste
is never a waste
It becomes addicting
Once you start eating
Cheese over nachos
Better than tacos
Nothing comes close
to the many ohs
that this tasty treat brings
that stops my mouth cravings
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
I wasted too much time in comparing myself to other women
and blaming them when my exes chose them
and allowed my jealousy and rage to speak for me
Never understanding how they were all just innocent bystanders
in my complicated and chaotic love stories
I’m sorry, I didn’t know any better
and I wasn’t mature enough to take accountability
and it was easier to use y’all as scapegoats
when I lost war after war of love-
It was easier to say you won
because I wasn’t educated and white like you
In reality, I should’ve used my ammunition
only towards my exes
It was never y’alls fight to be a part of
even if some of them used y’all as an excuse
for their departure
I’m so sorry, anna, david’s ex-wife,
my ex metamours,
maybe my message will come to you in a dream
or you’ll see this poem in my blog one day
and be able to forgive me
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
the river of my love for you dried and at first I cried
but then it felt like freedom, it felt like happiness
to no longer obsess over someone who treated me like shit
to feel nothing for someone who caused me a world of pain
over and over again
Does this mean I finally learned my worth?
I wrote this poem in October of 2022.
were we the bonnie and clyde of toxic relationships ?
you setting up and detonating love bombs in my heart
and making me explode in rage every time you left
and me encouraging you with every reunion
because I loved you, because I didn’t want to be alone
so I went along with your emotional crimes every time
Until one day, I learned my worth
and blocked your energy from my universe
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
I cry over my fries while I write nonsense
because nothing makes sense
I’ve worked so hard to change my narrative
of mental illness
so hard to create a new story of strength
and resilience where I’m the heroine
but tragically I’m a falling victim again
to depression, anxiety, BPD, and whatever
the fuck else it is wrong with me
and I wish to make myself small enough
to disappear into a mist of nothingness
because lately it hurts too much to exists
Who are your favorite artists?
I wrote this poem in October of 2023.
in the juxtaposition of the karens and working class
I find sympathy for both
it’s hard to explain this in between-
it’s an exhausting struggle of understanding
the complexities of the human condition
of wanting to be seen
of wanted to be heard and respected
and I stared in horror, almost breathless
as the karens and the working class
exchange verbal hostile fire
and almost throw hands at each other
as one threatens the other’s livelihood
and the other stood their ground
and I –
was just a witness to the epidemic
of anger in America
I wrote this poem in December of 2022.
I try on grace and self compassion thinking of the many times
I wanted to be someone else
Mirroring my sister and my best friends to escape from myself
never thinking I was enough-
I even tried to be like my former metamours-
so smart, so pretty, so American
they were placed on pedestals by my exes
so of course I wanted to be like them-
never understood how I never stood a chance
and how nothing I did would matter
my exes always chose them
they were safe,predictable and shared their background
everything I was never going to be
so I chose to embrace who I really am
a woman with a chaotic history who feels everything with a magnitude of intensity
a woman who no longer mirrors others to gain a sense of identity
I now stand firm in the authenticity of my duality
I embrace my God given gift of my creativity and share it shamelessly
there’s no turning back now that I’m fully me
and I no longer care who loves and accepts me
I wrote this poem in October of 2019.
A blanket of anger and sadness
envelops me
as you dispose of me
once again
I hope this time I learn for good
that you only carry
destruction and devastation
within you
that you will never love
or care for me
that you’re a self absorbed
piece of shit
A blanket of anger and sadness
envelops me
And I hate you
but I hate myself even more
for wasting my time and love
on someone who never
deserved it
for trying to see love
and affection that was never there
for falling in love
with a charismatic coward
I wrote this poem in September of 2023.
my heart is full of what ifs? What if it works out?
What if I’m not as dumb as I think I am?
What If I stop listening to the voices in my head
that taunt me-telling me I’m not good enough?
What if I’m brave enough today
and chase my dreams despite my haters
and my inner critic?
I wrote this poem in September of 2023.
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
I wrote this poem in September of 2023.
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
escribí este poema en septiembre del 2023.
mis antepasados me visitan en sueños para darme ánimos,
para que no me hunda en mi amargura
para que me cubra con esperanza y fe
Que nunca pare de mejorar y evolucionar
I wrote this poem in September of 2023.
the evidence of my emotional affair stares back at me-
taunting me with a smirk-
sexy photos exchanged while both of us were legally bonded
to other people
flirty emails sent back and forth to satisfy my craving for attention
I couldn’t get from my husband
It was fun and sexy, wasn’t it?
We were our own Gen X, low rent version of Ashley Madison
seeing how much both of us could get away with-
except that for years, it hurt me and caused me so many trust issues
after learning you had been married the entire time
of our decade long flirtation
and you acted like a psychopath when I confronted you with it-
like my feelings of betrayal weren’t valid,
and you tried to gaslight me into believing I was a crazy bitch
and a few years later, I’m divorced and reflect on our torrid affair
and shame takes a hold of me
as well as regret over that day in the parking lot
of second and charles when I gave
into my yearning for you-
I try to hold compassion for the atrocity of our infidelity
and for the younger version of me who was so selfish
and allowed her ego to guide her
And allowed herself to continue her pseudo friendship
With you-
allowing you to use me for emotional labor
while you slept next to your wife and lied to her and me
I’ve tried for years to find forgiveness for you
even empathy, tried to not always see you as villain
in my story
But forgiveness, compassion, and empathy for you
Evades me
And I’ve come to the conclusion-
You’ll always be the most toxic story in my life-
One of the three things in my life I’ll forever regret
the one who should have left my life
once I made vows to my husband
but instead you stood there selfishly
pushing your lust driven agenda on me-
not respecting my marriage or yours
one of the three people in my life
I’ll never forgive
for the impact of trauma
You made on me
Life on the BPD 