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poetry: nothing taste as good as skinny feels-Kate Moss

I wrote this poem in November of 2023.

at least I can now wear corsets and look good in them

I’ve starved myself to make my mom, lovers, and even myself
so they’ll love and accept me
I’d go on extreme diets, skip meals,
over exercise until throwing up
and getting excited when the number on the scale
went down
and hating myself when it went up
never quite understanding there’s much more to me
than some arbitrary and unrealistic standard of beauty
I’ll never be able to attain
there’s much more to me than how I fill out a tight dress
and yet, I still check the scale every once in a while
to measure my worth

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poetry: my favorite memory

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

“still I think of all the bloodshed somehow bittersweet”- Conan Gray

My favorite memory of us will be of us falling in your bathtub
and the laughter and love that ensued after-
it was almost a tragedy that ended as comedy
and it was one of our last memories
before we both decided that it was better to block each other
from each other’s universe
and while I still think of you from time to time-
it’s no longer with resentment or anger I once had
it’s with only fondness in my heart of the mess
we were together

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poetry: chains

I wrote this poem in November of 2023.

I always manage to find a way to survive

The invisible chains of my mental illness try to take away my joy
and enthusiasm but I shake off my chains
and live as fully as I can
Despite my anxiety,
Despite my depression,
Despite my BPD trying to grab hold of me
I no longer allow my inner demons rob me
of the goodness that universe has to offer me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: distraction

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

“I’m not sorry, I wouldn’t change a thing” -Conan Gray

I never loved you, you were a distraction
an escape from my suburban mommy life
I wanted to feel sexy, still young and fun
so I used you to make me feel alive
to awaken the sexy vixen in me
the one I had sacrificed when I fell in the stability
of a relationship
and now I look back on it
You did nothing wrong, you were just a scapegoat
a villain I need in my story of love and lust
to not feel shame and guilt

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poetry: one way street

I wrote this poem in November of 2023.

me on the day I drove on a one way street

I drove on a one way street and didn’t even realize I was doing it
until a kind pedestrian pointed it out
and I was like “oh shit” and cringed at myself as I kept on driving
and my brain invoked the voice of my papi
“Idiota, estupida” and my blood pressure spiked
and I’m light headed from the embarrassment
Middle age and present me steps in quickly to fix this
I keep going and find a parking spot
and step out still flushed from the verbal beating
my inner child just took
even after I fixed my mistake
the repercussions from the shame
are still felt in my body

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: chaos

I wrote this poem in November of 2019.

” I was your willing accomplice, honey”- Olivia Rodrigo

Your love comes and goes like the most sudden
and violent gusts of wind
I try to stay in my calm and peaceful place
But I am swept away in your chaos
that bring me to the highest mountain
of lust,intimacy, and love
I want to stay here
I want to die here
in the heaven that is your arms and your lips
But you continually push me away
You dispose of me like trash
not caring about my inner destruction
You break me heart into
millions of pieces
Everytime I try to give myself to you
Your love, your toxic love
Swallows me up and spits me up out
only to break me over and over again

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poetry: me and my trauma

I wrote this poem in November of 2023.

the damn trauma

I hold hands with my trauma and show her off to everyone
most people look at her with curiosity
some people are horrified
my family cringes and and whispers to me,
“it’s embarrassing, showing her as some kind of trophy”
I get mad and flip everyone off
and me and my trauma link arms and skip on our way
to share her story and create drama and chaos
who cares if no one understands our process
of healing and recovery by sharing our story

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: death to the season of fuckbois

I wrote this poem in November of 2019.

“psychopathic, don’t be so dramatic, we had magic, but you made it tragic”- Conan Gray

He comes with false promises of respect
and easy and uncomplicated lust
He promises never to hurt you
but it’s all a game to get for him to get laid
He just wants to use you for a hit and run
Once he’s done with you
He’ll discard you like trash
He’ll never see you as a person
He’ll only see you was a receptacle for his cum
He’ll only see you as an object of lust
and at times he’ll even claim to love you
when he sees he’s losing the toxic spell he’s placed on you
but once he’s got you in his bed
He’ll forget about you the next day
So it’s best to stop his emotionally poisonous game
that leaves you always feeling worthless in the end
and delete and block his number
and forget about the fuckboy once and for all

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

poetry: the fog

I wrote this poem in November of 2019.

I can’t be your lover on a leash-Conan Gray

Loving you is like being in a fog
of continued self destruction
It destroys my inner being
It destroys my soul
And yet I continually do this
to myself
Love someone
that continues to discard me
Over and over and over and over
again
Love someone
who doesn’t even love himself
Waiting for the fog
to clear is the worst part
Because my heart doesn’t know
how to listen to my head
my heart continually refuses
to let go of my self destruction
that is being devoted to you
But I must, I have to, I need to
allow the fog to clear
To make room in my heart and mind
for someone that truly wants to love me

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inner child

summer child
Daily writing prompt
What’s something you believe everyone should know.
View all responses

lean into your inner child, let your spirit once again
be filled with awe and wonder
forget society’s rules that tells you to act your age
to control yourself,
who determines these stupid conventions and norms
anyways
sing out loud at the table, dance in your office
tell a stranger you’re glad they exist,
run in a field of flowers and giggle
lean into your inner child, let your spirit once again
be filled with awe and wonder

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry:beneath

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

one day
the things people don’t say

Beneath the fallen leaves lies my footprints
and the footprints of lives unknown
on roads taken with regrets
Beneath the fallen leaves lies the stories from the trash
not picked up-a used condom here, a hair tie there
a letter lost
Beneath the fallen leaves lies everything unsaid
and tears that have fallen

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: nonsense

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

me planning blog content in October

honest nonsense is spilled across my blog
honoring who I have been, am, and will be
a former chaotic mess who’s tried her best
to turn her victim story into a narrative
of empowerment owning everything
that’s happened to me,
not caring what anyone else thinks-
if some people are offended,
they should have acted better

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: I don’t care

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

if I’m too much for you, go find less

I’m not for the tender and meek
and because of that I might end up
lonely for the rest of my life
and before, it used to bother me
but lately I don’t care
I’d rather be alone facing the world
and my fears without anyone
who’ll judge me or give me
his unsolicited opinion on my life
I finally hold the reins of my autonomy
and I’m not giving that up for anybody

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: casual

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

bud light energy inspired this poem

if we start this again
Boundaries need to be put in place
respect me and we can make this work
let’s keep it casual and leave our feelings
out of it
I’m not looking for anything serious
every time I’ve tried long term love
I’ve crashed and burned
so let’s give this a go
with purely sexual energy
there is no space, energy or time
for anything else
let’s keep things easy and light
devour me, fuck me like a whore
take charge in the bedroom
but not anywhere else
I finally belong to myself
and I’m not changing that
anytime soon

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: breaking the vow

I wrote this poem in October of 2023.

ready to break this vow

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