Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Bragging

bitches better watch out, I don’t play

When I was a teen I was the girl guys hid
They were embarrassed to be seen with me
and now in my middle age men want to brag
about fucking me even if it was that one time
and while I’m not ashamed of my sexuality
I still hate this misogynist reality of
how my body and my sexual intensity
makes me fodder for men’s sexism
maybe it’s toxic masculinity
Or maybe men can’t see past my powerful sexual energy
They need to remember I’m also crazy
and when they relegate me to a sexual object
they become my subject for my salty poetry

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: It could be worse they say

It could be worse they say because I could be dead
my children left without a mother
my parents left without a daughter
My friends and coworkers left without entertainment
of my emotional and dramatic hijinks
And I left without fulfilling my potential or life purpose
It could be worse they say because with me gone
Who else will give you my special brand of crazy?

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: charity

I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

feeling some kind of way

their used knicknacks, their used clothes
their used whatever is taking up too much space
in their closet or garage
all of this is given to their browner and poorer
counterparts
act like ever act of charity will bring them
one step closer to heaven
when at times their recipients feel
like it’s a act of condescension, arrogance
a way to remind them where they belong
a way to remind them of their working
class status
the haves need the have nots to have someone
to feel superior to
while the have nots cannot escape
the cycle of poverty
due to the greed of the haves

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poetry: Monster

So serious
BPD life be like

I’m a real monster when I can’t see past my anger
I want to burn you down
I want you to drown
And at times I can control
my impulsivity and revenge
But sometimes my anger can’t be caged
And I try to keep it in between the pages
of my journal and notebooks
but the resentment becomes too loud
to let you off the hook
So a passive aggressive status post happens
with an intent to insult and offend
I want you to feel my anger all the way revealed
Maybe one day I’ll get much better
not allowing my anger to turn me into a monster

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: not the one

I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

I’m not the one you want
or the one you’ll ever take home
to meet your mama
but I’m the one etched in your mind,
the one who appears in your dreams
the one you will never forget about
and one of your few regrets
and you,
you were another story among many
another obsession of my past
I hardly ever think about

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Hunger

Dm me for the price 🤣🤣🤣

Are you seeking security or adventure?

lately I take the biggest bites out of life and flaunt it
in front of everyone
for too long I suppress my hunger for experience,
For adventure
thought I was crazy for trying to explore my curious nature
So instead I took small bites here and there
thinking it would be enough
but it wasn’t who I was
a little bird taking nips
naw I’m a condor reading to pounce and satiate my hunger
my big ass appetite
ready to be satisfied
with the unpleasant  and pleasurable things in life

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: we’re fucked

I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

another 4 years of trump and who knows if America
will still be standing
if anyone who’s not male or white will still have rights
another 4 years of trump and I see a future of fascism
and dictatorship and U.S born citizens being sent back
to their parent’s country of origin
another 4 years of trump and I’m not sure I’ll still be alive
or at very least still maintain a semblance of my sanity

7/29/24

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

poetry: today

I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

we had the same vibe

it wasn’t until today I realized how ordinary you really were
It wasn’t that you were ever that interesting or special
It was me with my lovergirl delusional glasses
refusing to see past what was in front of me
Seeing and getting caught up in fantasies
of who you could be
when really you were, the most ordinary of men
not malicious, not especially intelligent
not really helpful
just kind of existing without any spark
without anything that would  make me
look twice at you now

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: COVID AGAIN!

I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

in the midst of another bout of COVID

with this new strain of COVID, all of my cell are mutating and regenerating
and making be at a standstill where I have time to sit and think
about what I really want, about whether or not I’m doing enough
to live a life worth living
or if I’m just existing in a routine of monotony that leads nowhere
in a routine I’ve deluded myself into calling healthy
but really it’s far from it

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

Poetry: Pretty Mess

honesty is not pretty

Men love a pretty mess like me
especially the nice ones who want to fix me and save me
I’m their pretty princess who’s so lovely and sweet
And for some, my pussy makes them think or say they love me
but when I turn from a pretty mess to a crazy and chaotic hurricane
they can’t stand to be around me and run away
“I never signed up for this, you’re toxic”
and I cry and then laugh at the absurdity
you don’t get to choose just to love the fun part of me
because that’s not love
that’s their primal need and lust for me disguised as loved
because real love accepts everything about me

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poetry: betrayal

I wrote this poem in July of 2024.

the day I was told I needed a total hip replacement surgery

my body has betrayed me one last time
and this time I’ll take charge of it
and control what’s happening
this time I’m old enough to stop
this nonsense and kill what’s causing me
the most insufferable pain
and I’ll replace the hip that’s the vane
of my existence,
the diseased hip that must be sacrificed for me
to stop the curse of martyrdom passed down
for generations

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: Goddess Complex

bombshell

I am a powerful force in this complicated world
full of intelligence humor and intense sexuality
men want to fuck me, women want to hate me
both want to get near me
I’m an Amazon goddess in a millennial mom bod
I try my best to stay humble
but have you ever been
called the most beautiful woman in the world
or has your power make grown men cry
and run away from you
it’s hard to stay down to earth
when I hold so much power between my legs
and my hands
Soy una a mujer, made up of chaos and trauma
who carries strength and resilience as her armor