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Poetry: My Bad Luck

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

People say I shouldn’t give up on love
and it’s really just my bad luck
But how do I explain
How love makes me insane
It’s not the men I pick
It’s really me, me, me
I’ll become the version they want me to be
thinking they’ll stay with me-
behave, swallow my words, hide my anger,
implode on myself in the privacy of my journal
but keep my mask of sweet princess on-
but this never last for long
something always happens
it’s just a matter of when
when will I get tired of hiding who I am
and start being erratic and crazy
When will they get tired of my bullshit
and decided to leave
and almost always, this ends up
as an emotional catastrophe for me
so I’ve come up with a solution
I’m going to make my newfound solitude
a haven, a sanctuary to fall into
give myself as much time as I need
to enjoy the gift on my own company
understanding that this isn’t an ending
but rather a brand new beginning for me
to write and edit my own unconventional love story

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Poetry: The Woke “SJW”

I wrote this poem in May of 2022 inspired by this “woke” white woman. Lol.

you’re nothing but a selfish and narcissistic attention whore
constantly craving the limelight
by posting long and stupid ridden Facebook statuses
about the “truth” of the injustice you see
injecting yourself as the voice of minorities
it all unveils your world of deep seated insecurities
and the irony of all of this is should you know better
since you’re a therapist
but apparently you’re still dumb as fuck
It doesn’t matter how many degrees you have-you still reek of ignorance

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Poetry: Earth to Eliza

I wrote this poem in May 2022.

I’d rather live in music, daydreams, and fantasies
than face the monotony and routine of real life
who wants to deal with spreadsheets
when I can get lost in dreams about finding the one
who wants to answer to karen’s idiotic questions
when I got taylor swift on repeat
who wants to open and read another email
about another stupid workplace policy
when I can fantasize about the best sex
I had the a few nights ago
real life is too boring for me
when I have music, daydreams, and fantasies
waiting to inspire the writer in me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poesía:Distraída

Escribí este poema en Mayo del 2022.

Distraída, distraída, distraída
siempre fui así
porque la fantasía siempre es mejor
que la realidad
porque necesitaba escapar la durez de mi vida
vivir en sueños es mejor que vivir la vida
que muchas veces me dejan rota y triste
con las desgracias que me pasan
distraída, distraída, distraída
siempre sere asi mientras tengo vida en mi

Posted on by pattytacuri · 5 Comments

Poetry: Where is my Dinero?

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

for real

I wonder where all of my money goes
but then I go home to the bottomless pits
that are my kids
and then I go upstairs to my bedroom
where my closet is exploding with clothes
and then I look under bed full of shoes
and then I go downstairs to my record player
and looks at my various vinyls
and we won’t even talk about my newly
acquired furniture from Amazon
now I understand
my money goes to my busy life
and my BPD spending impulsivity

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Poetry: Capitalism

Happy International Workers Day! I wrote this poem a few years ago reflecting on what achieving my American dream looked like at the time.

me around the time I wrote this poem

I am a slave to the severe master
of capitalism and greed

Risking my mental and physical health
to get closer to the haves

New car, new therapist–
Am I closer to the American dream yet?

Capitalism and greed has become my religion
The curse of consumerism some say
The curse of wanting better for me I say

Greed and capitalism–
is the American way
for my American Dream

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Poetry: Is my mood stabilizer working yet?

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

me in May of 2022

Fuck you, fuck me, fuck everyone
Is my mood stabilizer working yet?
and fuck, fuck, fuck my brain chemistry
it makes me so angry and crazy
Sometimes I’d rather feel nothing
than constantly feeling everything
Between my anxiety, depression, bipolar
And bpd
I can’t trust my brain to tell me the difference
between right and wrong
I can’t trust my heart if my feelings are valid
or if it’s inner critic preying on my insecurities
on day likes this I’d rather disappear
because being me gets so exhausting

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Poetry: Left Behind

Aqui esta la version en Espanol de este poema:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/02/02/poesia-la-mujer-de-hoy/

your wretched goodbye brought a radical change within me
left behind was the naive girl who fell in love with you
left behind was the stupid bitch who made a home in you
left behind was the insecure woman who made you her world
the woman who stands before you made a 360 turn
the woman who stands before lives life according to her own terms
without apologizing, without accommodation, without toning herself down
the woman you left behind no longer exists
she turned into ashes and out of the ashes turned into a brave and powerful queen
who learned that her love is the rarest type of jewel that she reserves
only for those who love her and accept her exactly as she is

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Poesia: Incapacidad

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/02/15/poetry-your-little-game/

el resentimiento que siento por ti no me deja dormir
tus acciones me hicieron un mundo de daño y me trastornaron
y siempre me preguntare,
¿Por qué fuiste un cobarde y no pudiste dar la cara al desmadre que tu creaste ?
¿Por que somos nosotros que tuvimos que sufrir por tu incapacidad
de ser un hombre de verdad y asumir tu responsabilidad?

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 Poesia: La chica de tus sueños

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/22/so-much/

el miedo de compartir todo demasiado pronto corre por mi
entonces me hago la chica de tus sueños
la que se viste sexy y se ríe de todas tus bromas
la que da su cuerpo fácilmente sin preguntas o demandas
la que no exige respeto por miedo
de vivir el cuento de mujer dejada de nuevo

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Poesia: El Disco

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/28/poetry-my-past/

el disco de mi trauma toca en el tocadisco de mi vida
en un ciclo infinito de los errores cometidos
en un ciclo infinito de lo que pudo ser
y trato y trato de escaparme
hallar brazos nuevos que me abracen y olvidarme de él
emborracharme hasta quedarme dormida esperando
la nostalgia de él no me visite en mis sueños
y rezar por una cura, un remedio
para borrarlo de mi mente para siempre
para poder empezar de nuevo con alguien que sepa valorarme
Sin el fantasma de el constante persiguiendome

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Poetry: Banished

I wrote this poem on Valentine’s Day of 2022.

Your false love swallowed me into an ocean of oblivion
and I almost drowned
You consumed my mind with anxious thoughts
of whether or not I mattered to you
And thoughts of death visited me when you ignored me
Feelings of worthlessness and emptiness
threatened my wretched existence over and over again
because of your inconsistent love
But one day, I was enough by myself
I didn’t need your pseudo love
So I’m banishing you to the land of past lovers
who never deserved the magic
of my love

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poesia: Indiferencia

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/26/poetry-indifference/

vivimos en un mundo de indiferencia
pero continuamos fingiendo que nos amamos
cuando en realidad todavía no me olvidado de él
y tu todavia piensas en ella
pero los dos tenemos miedo a la soledad
por eso seguimos juntos en una existencia de falsedad