Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: we all fuck up

I wrote this poem in April of 2023.

me in Oxapampa in April of 2023

we all fuck up from time to time and have to remind ourselves
we are not our worst mistakes, our terrible breakups, or our emotional relapses
to be human is to make mistakes and sometimes those mistakes will feel catastrophic
and that’s when your inner critic with the help of shame and guilt will step in
trying to make you feel like a piece of shit, worthless and useless when it comes to everything
acknowledge it, honor it if you have to but don’t get stuck in it
because this is not the entirety of you
this is just a small fraction of your being-
don’t get caught up in the worst of yourself-
remind yourself of your strength and the gifts that you bring into this world

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: hands

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

facts

The hands of ego and pride kept them apart
They chose themselves instead of following their hearts
it was tragic to see how many lies they weaved
I don’t love her, I don’t love him
they held on tightly to their anger, went back to their safety nets
it was more comfortable to do so then to fall back into their chaos

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: rope bunny

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

addicted to the pain

Cover me up in rope and tie me up every which way you want
It’s fine, it’s okay honey, I’m used to it by now
Men and society have been tying me up since I could breathe
So a real rope won’t bring me much harm
take control of me like you own me, tonight I don’t want to think
It’s not much different from the way every man in my life has treated me
so do whatever you want with me and make me your ultimate rope bunny

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: does this person even exist?

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

for real for real

I used to want a lover who looked at me like I was magic
now I want a lover who sees the real me and doesn’t leave
someone who doesn’t scare easily when I cry in front of them
and instead holds me and offers me kind words of solace
someone who accepts that I’m both angel and devil
and doesn’t hold it against me
Someone who’s persistent enough to get through my emotional walls
even when I’m closed off because of trauma
this kind of lover won’t be ideal and will have his own set of issues
but it’s the only kind I’ll accept from now
Because lovers who have looked at me like I was magic
quickly disappear when a strong wind of my insanity ruins me
me for them and they say, “fuck me, I didn’t sign up for this”