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Poetry: Extinction

I wrote this in 2017 during my great depression. I guess I was just annoyed and angry by society.

me in 2017 around the time I wrote this poem

Simple decency is becoming extinct
Manners and politeness is rare
rudeness and sarcasm is the norm
Being kind feels outdated
in this narcissistic society
filled with superfluous and superficial people
Who bring their harsh and shallow attitudes
everywhere
There is no escape from this epidemic
of the nothingness
that tries to appear profound
It is a society that blames the victim
“ but what was she wearing?”
or
“He was hanging out with the wrong kids”
It is a society that’s prejudiced against
anyone different
“Go back to where you came from”
“You’ll never belong here”
“People will always remember
how you made them feel”,
Maya Angelou said
Unnecessary, weak, aloof, isolated alone
Is how this world makes me feel
I’m a FAILURE trying to accommodate myself
to this world full of shallow feelings
I miss the kind and real people
in this world
It’s rare to find them now
They are almost extinct

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Poetry: Shadows

I wrote this poem sometime around 2014 or 2015. I was feeling nostalgic about a former flame I had been obsessed with. This tends to happen a lot with me. Letting go of my past is hard at times.

me in 2015 around the time I wrote this poem

Shadows of my past

Envelop my future

Everywhere I go

Time has passed 

I am older

Harsh experiences 

Have made my cynical

And embrace 

My mediocrity

But still 

Shadows of the past

Envelop my future

Everywhere i go

I’m happy that you found 

Your idyllic happiness 

With someone else 

And living the life

You always wanted 

But shadows of our past

Envelop my future

Everywhere I go 

I love my children

I love my spouse

But for one more moment

Of us

I would leave them

And everything else behind

Shadows of our past

Envelops my future

Everywhere I go 

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Poetry: Silence

I wrote this 2013 about my husband.

silence kills

Silence, awkward silence is what was left after everything they needed to say was said

 It was the same fight over and over again.

Old wounds were brought to the surface and reopened. 

She blamed him for derailing her ambitions

 and he blamed her for derailing the productive and selfish life he once led. 

They both couldn’t see that they were both at fault

 for not continuing to push each other to flourish

 but instead they fell into a complacent spell 

And a pattern of a comfortable 

and the fruitless routine of suburban life.

 And the years went on and they had nothing to show for it 

except debt and wrinkles they both inflicted upon themselves. 

And the years went on and all that was left 

was regret for her for the things that she didn’t get to experien

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Poetry: Rejection

I wrote this in 2009 about Brad.

sometimes all you can do is laugh

Rejection
Is an interruption
Of the infatuation
I felt towards you

Rejection
Is a profound sadness
With a river of tears
That flows down my cheeks

Rejection
Is a broken promise
You made
That breaks my heart
Along with the rest of me

Rejection
Is the start of learning
Who you are
Behind the facade
Of infatuation

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Poem: Depression

I wrote in December of 2012 when I was amidst a great depression.

So true-Life is hard

Recognizing the triggers of 

My depression is one of 

The hardest things I have to do

It’s when I’m silent

Wishing all the bad things 

Would go away

It’s when I stop listening 

To music 

It’s when I struggle 

To open my eyes 

And face another dreadful day

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Poesia: Otro Niño Confundido

Here is the English version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/?p=1792

Eras un sorpresa lleno

de atención y afección 

hasta me dejastes rosas en mi tablero

Pensé, por fin, llegó mi príncipe azul 

Pero después de un tiempo

Sentí la distancia entre los dos

ya no tenías tiempo para mi

pronto me darás alguna excusa estúpida

porque me tienes que abandonar

y mi corazón quedará en pedazos

no habrá nada más que decir

me dare cuenta

que tu fuiste el mismo cuento

de otro niño confundido

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Poetry: Restless

I wrote this poem in 2008. One the BPD traits is feeling restless and oh my, I feel this a lot. Sometimes it’s for a few hours, sometimes it’s for a few days and I write about it.

restlessness lies in my heart

Restlessness lies in 

my mind at 

night and does

not go away

easily. It invades 

my thoughts and

questions me.

Will it ever go

away or will I 

become insane?

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Poetry: Small

I wrote this in 2007 when I transferred to a 4 year University. It was a rough experience.

me with my friends in 2007

I feel small in this enormous and elitist world
it doesn’t seem like I will ever fit
It only seems like a perfect fit
for my younger, blonder, whiter,
and younger counterparts
Older, hispanic, and poor is not acceptable here.
Should I even try ?
When I’m destined for failure on this institution’s steps
Failure on the steps is what I feel here-
a place where my browner, poorer self
feels like an outcast, an undesirable- by the eyes of prejudice

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry : Dreams

I wrote this poem in late 2007 when I was depressed about my life. Again, instead of going to therapy, I just wrote a poem about it. Lol.

none of us know what we’re doing

Tainted dreams 

of life is what

I have left.

A career of abstract 

nothingness lies

before me. 

Chaotic and sensitive off springs

I must put before me.

Frigidity and

senility in my

marital bed lie

next to me. 

Is this it? Is this 

what is left 

of my 

foolish childhood dreams.

Scattered dreams

in my past 

become failures

of my present.

Will my soul

ever recuperate

from the cost?

Will I ever be that

hopeful again?

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Poem: My Sleeping Poem **trigger warning**

I wrote this poem in December of 2016 after my almost love affair with death on December 5th. It’s strange how aside from my journal entries from that month, I hardly remember that month. I just remember feeling so broken inside and like a failure after that happened that it was so hard to get up every morning. I do know that writing saved me during that time because I started journaling way more consistently. I would learn years later after being diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder that up to 10 percent of people with BPD die by suicide. Five years later, I’m glad that I had people by my side that prevented me from becoming one in ten. I’m glad that afterwards, I was able to slowly come back from this even if I was mostly depressed the year after and it was a fight to get up every single day.

For more information about the high risk of BPD and Suicide, here is a link from Psychology Today with info about it:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/where-science-meets-the-steps/201512/the-destructive-power-borderline-personality-disorder

me and one of my best friends in December 2016

I wanted to sleep

Sleep beckoned me

Like a magical place

Where I could forget

Forget-

The burdens and responsibilities

Forget-

The performance reviews, the report cards, the bills

Forget- 

The husband, the kids, the friends

I wanted to sleep

So I planned my journey there

Call in sick, act natural,

Take the bottle of xanax

I wrote love letters 

To my children, my husband, and friends

Just in case I fell in a forever dream

I wanted to sleep

Selfishly, without interruptions 

I wanted to sleep

So I didn’t have to think 

About my mediocre and suburban reality

My lost dreams of greatness

My wastefulness on this earth

I wanted to sleep

But I was interrupted

By my husband shaking me

Halfway carrying me 

To the couch, forcing coffee

Down my throat

I wanted to sleep 

But I had to wake up

And endure the reality of life

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Flash Fiction: Once Again

I wrote this in 2004 and revised it recently. It’s not based on anything from real life.

hard truth

They’re driving back from the theater. All evening he’s been quiet and she wonders what is going on. She reaches for his hand but he won’t give it to her. She tries to look into his eyes and he looks away.She can feel him cold and distant. She no longer recognizes what is supposed to be “them”. With tears in her eyes, she says, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing.” he says as he’s still evading her eyes.

“Do you still love me?” she asks with a quivering voice. 

“I’m sorry.I’m in love with someone else. It’s nothing you did. These things happen, I hope–

“STOP!” she yells. She’s barely holding it together at this point. 

“I’m really sorry, I just want to-”

“STOP! I’m done with this. Stop the car.” she screams at him. 

“You’re being crazy, at least let me-”

“NO. I want nothing from you! Stop the car NOW!”

“You need to calm — he stops mid sentence as he sees her taking off her seat belt and unlocking the door. He stops the car. He says, “I just want–” 

“Fuck what you want” she says as she gets out of the car.

“But I-”

“There is nothing left to say”. She tells him. She walks away while she cries and laughs.She whispers to herself  “fuck.once again”.