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poetry: finding myself in Autumn

I wrote this poem in October of 2021.

hope in my eyes
me in Autumn of 2021

The rain falls steadily in Autumn
and I remember the 9 days in the summer
When the tears wouldn’t quit raining from my eyes
The eternal emotional pain wouldn’t stop
the lonely nights I couldn’t sleep
the infinite anger and sadness that I felt
the emptiness that wouldn’t
go away
the food I couldn’t eat.
And yet I still woke up
every day with a determination to live
live for my kids
live for my friends
live for myself
even at my worst,
even at my most vulnerable
Somehow, I managed
managed to find strength
managed to find inspiration
and somehow managed to
find my way back to myself
Summer was the season
I died when I was
rejected by the one who
claimed to love me
Autumn is the season I was reborn
and I fell back in love
with myself, forgot him
and fell into the magic
that is me

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poetry: stillness

I wrote this poem in October of 2020.

stimulation
it’s okay to be bored

The stillness in my life makes me insane
I’m craving an adventure
I’m craving ecstasy
I’m craving the unpredictable
To lie in the stillness feels like dying
and I want to live
Live life spontaneously,live life musically
Live a life full of excitement
To live in this stillness makes me feel like
I’m drowning in a lake of stagnation

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poetry: what is it?

I wrote this poem in October of 2024

quote from Mariah Carey

is it the gods of bpd and pmdd or the men in my life with 3 of swords energy
making me extra hateful and moody today
are my standards too high because I’m obsessed
with conan gray, joji, and yung gravy
and none of the men in my life seem to hold a flicker of a flame
to the Gods of music I worship
is is the gods of bpd and pmdd or my chronic pain making me a moody bitch
today or is it me not being selective enough with who I’m allowing
into my inner circle and allowing clowns to pollute my energy
because lately my poetry isn’t hitting like it used to
or maybe I just need to uninstall all of my social media apps,
turn off my phone for a few days, and read books and listen to my vinyls
to reset and recharge

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poetry: lie

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

I tell myself I’m not capable of love-
but that’s another lie
the truth is I’m very capable of love
But I’m afraid of it, I’m terrified of showing my vulnerability
only to once again be proven wrong, to once again go crazy
Only to once again endure the abandonment of another lover
So I lie to myself and say I’m not capable of love

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: how are you?

I wrote this poem in October of 2020.

hell yeah

He’ll ask me,
“How are you?
And I wanted to say–
“Miserable. Bad. sad. I hate you.
I wished for your death a thousand times.
I miss you. I love you.”
Instead, I said, “I’m okay”
And in the silence between our texts
I wondered
“Why? Why did he come back?
Why did I let him back in ?
Why do I love him?”

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poetry: blanket

I wrote this poem in October of 2019.

A blanket of anger and sadness
envelops me
as you dispose of me
once again
I hope this time I learn for good
that you only carry
destruction and devastation
within you
and that you will never love
or care for me
and that you’re a self absorbed
piece of shit
A blanket of anger and sadness
envelops me
And I hate you
but I hate myself even more
for wasting my time and love
on someone who never
deserved it
for trying to see love
and affection that was never there
for falling in love
with a charismatic coward

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poetry: hangover

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

ew…I’m hungover sometime in 2020

my emotional hangover drains me
and anxiety and insecurity sets in –
He makes my heart race-
He inspires poetry
He’ll be another tragic love story
I know he’s not a “finally”
He’s more of a “maybe”
maybe he’ll leave , maybe he won’t
I wonder how he’ll grow tire of me

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poetry: will you?

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

Cringe

Will your light illuminate the dark and negative thoughts I have about love?
or will you be another one who fill me up with more self doubt
and makes me feel worthless
Will you really mean it when you tell me you love me?
or will you leave the minute I lose my shit?

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Poetry: August 2009

They should go out of their way

August 2009

In anticipation of the night
I was excited to see you
But then we met
And the look you gave me
said it all
without saying anything
at all
I had warned you
I had changed
But you refused to believe it
and held onto
an idealistic image of me
in your head
Worthless small talk ensued
Even though there was
nothing left to say
Your body language screamed:
“Get the fuck away from me”
But a small trickle of hope
cemented my feet to the ground
next to you
And then a sorry excuse
trickled from your lips
And you left me stranded
that night

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Poetry: Spiritual Journey

Summer Child

The journey into the broken pieces of my soul makes me cry out from agony felt
Solitude, vitamins, a healthy and boring routine
Affirmations with big and healthy dose of self compassion
are the requisites for healing and growth-
it’s a spiritual journey into healing my inner child
and it fucking hurts

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Poetry: experiment

What curse to be a lovergirl 😭

The experiment of life leaves me breathless with rage
Why keep trying love on over and over again
when it continually abandons me
It’s like a balloon
I’m filled up with joy and happiness
and then there’s life’s pin of reality
makes my balloon burst
and I’m reduced to nothingness until I find rage
to fuel me to move forward
it’s exhausting, it’s madness

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: mistress

I’ve tried on the role of the fun and sexy mistress
and failed every single time
I need to be the main character in my lover’s story
and not relegated to a dirty secret
the side chick that’s good enough to fuck
but not good enough for a relationship status
my love is immense and beautiful
and not for those cowards who don’t want all of it
I’m an Incan Goddess mixed with Peruvian aristocracy
I’m royalty and will treated as such