Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Thirty-Seven

I wrote this poem on February 22, 2019, the last day of being 37. It was a chaotic year that was filled with lots of ups and downs. It was the year I met “C” and who I now referred to as my “good” ex Jake.

February 22, 2019

Last day at 37 and I am humbled
By the calm that comes after the storm
That was last year
Several waves came
In the forms
Of the average millenial fuck boy
Pretending to converse
In hopes of DTF
It was fun, it was sexy, it was tiring
And when I was ready to quit the tinder world
My blond hurricane
Torpedoed into my life
One sweltering and lonely July Night
He took over my damaged heart
And mind
He took me on a rollercoaster of emotions
From rays of happiness
To rowdy winds of devastation
With more hellos, goodbyes and I love yous
That I’ve had in a lifetime
It was crazy, it was chaotic,it was love
And in one of our
Almost solid goodbyes-
In waltzed the amber of hope
He slowly put back together
The broken pieces of my heart
The hurricane had left behind
He made me believe hope
Was within my reach
He calmed down my chaotic thoughts
He held my peace and happiness
In his hands
It was good, it was easy, it wasn’t enough
And I just crashed back into
My previous existence
Of married monotony and routine
Again, I am alone and empty
In my solitude of motherhood and marriage

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Discarded Crush

I wrote this in late 2002. It was about a coworker I was crushing on. I think this was the coworker that I left a love note for under his windshield wiper. Yeah, that was one of my cringiest/most Joe Goldberg like moment. Haha.

sometimes it be like that

I got the short end of the stick
When you were the one my heart picked
For I know how you feel
You and me could never be real
What you don’t know is that
Even though I’m not a doormat
I would do almost anything for you
Even if it meant dying for you
You probably don’t even notice
How much I long for just one kiss
It would send me into a universe of happiness
Too bad you don’t think I’m the best
You may not know me
But you’ve already judged me
It’s so hard to discard of the notion
That we’ll never share a love emotion
You’ll be my discarded crush
The one I will forever lust

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poesia: Demaciado Sencilla

Escribí este poema en Diciembre del 2002 acerca de John cuando el me rechazo. Estaba bien enfadada.

Óyeme cuando te digo
Que ya no te amo
Me hiciste mucho daño
Por eso se acabo
Este doloroso cuento de amor
En que no supiste
Apreciar todo lo bueno que te quise ofrecer
Quizás tu pensarías
Que yo era demasiado sencilla

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Playlist: Self Love-My Love Affair with Myself

This playlist I’m sharing is called “Self Love-My Love Affair with Myself”. This playlist is filled with songs about feeling empowered after life gets you down because of a job loss, a break up, or maybe even just a bad day. It’s about getting your strength back and remembering who were in the first place and getting ready to conquer the world. It’s about finding yourself after losing your spark. It’s about feeling like a bad bitch again. I’ve put in bold my favorite songs from this playlist.

1.Confident- Demi Lovato

2.7 Rings- Ariana Grande

3.It’s Like That-Mariah Carey

4.Build a Bitch- Bella Poarch 

5.Everything I Want to Be- Save Ferris

6.Lose Yourself-Eminem

7.Independent Women Part 1-Destiny’s Child

8.Make It Happen- Mariah Carey

9.Moments-Tove Lo

10.Good Thing-Kehlani

11.U.N.I.T.Y- Queen Latifah

12.Look at Her Now- Selena Gomez

13.Truth Hurts-Lizzo

14.Brave-Sara Bareilles

15.Express Yourself- Madonna

16.None of Your Business-Salt N Peppa

17.Most Girls- Hailee Steinfeld

18.Free Your Mind- En Vogue

19.Good As Hell-Lizzo

20.THAT BITCH-Bea Miller

Below are the links for your listening pleasure:

Posted on by pattytacuri · 5 Comments

Poetry: Your Little Game

I wrote this in October of 2002 about my first son’s bio dad. I had a lot of residual resentment for my son’s bio dad. Therapy would have helped with processing processing the trauma but at least I had poetry.

my truth, my trauma

The thought of you never escapes my mind
not even for just one night
Your little game has caused me a lifetime of hurt,
resentment, and pain
Now I’ll never be the same
And I will forever ask myself
Why is it me and our innocent child
the ones to suffer for your thoughtless actions?
Him, without someone to call dad
and me,taken away from my youth
Forced to grow up too fast

Posted on by pattytacuri · 4 Comments

Poetry: Finally

I wrote this in April 2002 after sleeping with Lucas for the first time. This situation was fucked up and crazy for many reasons but that’s another story time blog post. Let’s just say that I’m not great at making the best life choices at times.

Anais is not wrong

I finally fucked
the forbidden married man
It was good, it was great
it was wonderful
It was a heaven full of ecstasy
It was dirty, it was shameful
it was ugly
It was a hell full of guilt

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Father Son Mile

I wrote this in 2002 about my oldest son’s father. I really wanted him to step up to be a dad to our son despite our turbulent past.

truth

You make me think
to look past that fateful night of fucking
So I forced that memory to fade fast
Even when a baby was made
Cause you chose her over me
I had to assume it was fate
That there could neve be a “we”
Just forget about that night
And clean our slate white
And walk with him the father-son mile

Posted on by pattytacuri · 7 Comments

Poetry: Fucking Waste

I wrote this in November of 2002. As I mentioned in my previous post, November was a chaotic month and I can’t remember who I wrote this about. Haha. Obviously I was angry at this dude. Maybe he ghosted me? Who knows?

Oh and I’m still learning -haha

I know you didn’t mean to
But you’ve made me so blue
With you nonchalant ways
To you I was just a fucking waste
So tonight I’ll leave
Why does this always happen to me?
Ending up with jerks like you
Maybe one day I’ll get a damn clue
And stop fucking around
with you fucking clowns

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Wrong

I wrote this in November of 2002. November was such a chaotic month that year that I don’t remember who wrote this about. I think it was probably a one night stand that I had a connection with. It’s obvious that I read way too much into the situation than I should have.

Oh it does

My mind tries to forget
Everything that happened last night
But my heart puts up a fight
My mind tells me it’s wrong and a mistake
But my heart yells that it wasn’t just sex
But it was also fate
My mind considers it a lost cause
but my heart finds a love feeling once lost

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Remorseful Sentiments

I wrote this in 2002 and it wasn’t actually inspired by any past relationships/ breakups. I don’t know, maybe I understood deep down that I had a tendency to self sabotage relationships.

the post trauma is the worst

Remorseful sentiments of you still come to mind
And I ask myself
“How could I have been so blind,
to screw up everything
that meant everything to me?
With my selfishness and lies,
I destroyed our paradise
And I still remember the look upon face
As you drove away full of disgust and hate?

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Pretending

I wrote this in 2002 about Matt. I think that the experience with him really put any residual abandonment issues from my childhood to the forefront. Interactions with him throughout my son’s childhood were hard emotionally for me for this reason.

exactly

We meet once again
And you pretend to be my friend
Like nothing ever happened
Like I forgot you never took a stand?
To be a father to our son
How can you be so damn dumb?
How could it have taken you so long?
To finally admit you were wrong
But I’ll forgive you
But I won’t ever forget the hell
you put us through
Just remember
It can never go back
To the way we once were

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: Thoughts

I wrote this in November of 2002 about Matt when he contacted me again and said he was coming to see our son for the first time. It was a really confusing and chaotic time for me. Even after everything that had happened and I had been through I was still romanticizing him. Ugh. Gotta love that BPD.

ain’t that the truth

I thought my feelings for you
had come to an end
When you thought it was best
For us to go our separate ways
And all of a sudden
Once again you appear
Explaining you felt a strong need
To be near me
That in your time away
You realized you made
The biggest mistake
By breaking us apart
You broke your own heart
A part of me is sad
A part of me is happy
I want to save my dignity
What am I to do?
I want to be with you
But don’t want to end up a fool

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poesia: Tardes Remordimientos

Escribí este poema en el 2002 acerca del padre de mi primer hijo. Sentía sentimientos encontrados después de no verlo en muchos tiempo.

Asi es a veces

El no se acuerda de esa niña adolescente
Y como llegaron ha hacer
Aquel bebe que el nego
Y ahora cinco años después
Al conocer de nuevo esa niña consentida
Convertida en toda una mujer
Se acuerda de su belleza
Y esa fricción sexual de como locos
Los llevó a la cama
Y al ver a ese bebe convertido
Le vienen los tardes remordimientos

Posted on by pattytacuri · 4 Comments

Poetry: Early Excitement

I wrote this in November of 2002 after meeting John. When I get excited about someone, I get EXCITED!

basically

I don’t know how you got me
to feel like this again
So happy, so free
For once, I’m excited about living
Maybe it was the way
We danced to the music
Quickly finding our own rhythm
Or the way you kissed me
Gently on my face
Or maybe, just maybe, it’s love

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poesia: La Mujer de Hoy

Escribí este poema en Octubre del 2002 acerca del padre de mi hijo mayor. Tenía bastante sentimientos encontrados pero mas que todo tenía rabia.

La Reina Maria Felix

Yo no soy aquella niña ingenua
Que tu conocistes
La que dejaba todo por ti
La que creía en el amor
Que tu le prometías
La que te amaba
Sin razón, sin condiciones
Sin enfrentar realidades
Esa soñadora quedo atras
Y esta mujer que ves
Es una mujer desilusionada, realista,
Y pessimista
No cree en nadie que le promete amor
Y se ha vuelto fría
Todo esto gracias
A tu desgraciada ausencia