Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: on the shitty days

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

on the shitty days I remember there is another open mic to go to

not every day can be filled with peace, calm, joy or excitement
Some days are absolutely shitty and depressing
Some days it’s hard to get up in the morning
without screaming fuck repeatedly on your way to work
Some days are overwhelming to push through
as hormones and emotions fuck you up
Some days are for questioning your life choices over
and over again allowing doubt and insecurity
to cloud you its accomplice self invalidation
Some days are for getting up only to look forward to the end of it
when you can sleep with the hope for a better day

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: overthinking

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

some days though

just when I’m about to close my eyes
the overthinking starts and robs me of my sleep
I obsess and obsess over something thoughtless I’ve said
I try my best to remember the four agreements
I try my best to take control of my emotions
But here I am still losing sleep over something
that won’t even matter in a day or two

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: by the fireside

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

corazon, no puedo dejar de pensar en ti-Selena

by the fireside I fall in love again and this time I’m sure
because before I met him I knew I was enough
before I met him I knew I was complete
before he was even a thought in my mind
he knew all about me
before I knew anything about him
he’s read my poetry
and nothing I’ve written scares him
to him I’m more than a pretty girl
to him I’m more than my diagnosis
to him I’m more than my chaotic past
because unlike the others, he sees my humanity
he sees my perseverance and resilience
and to him, I’ve become his everything

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: headache

I wrote this poem in April of 2022.

does a scorpion sting when fighting back? -Taylor Swift

I overthink, I overthink and I overthink
and my head hurts from so much anxiety
Society puts so much pressure on me
to be nice, to be pretty
to be kind, to be smart
the stress is tearing me apart
but slowly I start to breathe
and the pressure starts to decrease
I change the narrative
And stop with listening to my inner critic
Fuck societal expectations
so what if I’m an aberration
the only person who determines my identity
is me
not you, not him,not my parents
and not society

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: your replacement

this poem is inspired by a poem I wrote in 2006 about my first baby daddy.

he turned out just fine

He turned out fine without you in his life
I understand now that it was for the best
that you weren’t a part of his story
I no longer hold resentment for you
your replacement taught him
all of the important things
how to shave, how to drive
compassion and kindness
your replacement still checks up on him
even though he’s a grown
your replacement was never called Dad
but your replacement is the only father
he’s ever known