Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: at war with myself

I wrote this poem in May of 2022.

Old insecurities come to visit me again,
they shake up my newly acquired confidence
they tell me I’m not smart enough and I’ll never be truly loved
They tell the only thing I have going for me is how sexy I can be
Otherwise I’m a waste of a person because of my bpd
And I try to shut it all down and not once again drown
Because I have made so much progress and have come so far
Only to once again fight an anxiety and depression war
but it’s daunting not to let the negativity get to me
So here I go once again trying to calm down my brain
from intense and intrusive thoughts by covering myself with self love

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: the cost

I wrote this in May of 2022.

the cut that always bleeds-conan gray

What’s the cost of being authentically me?
not everyone will like me, lovers will run away from me
I have a hard time finding someone who accepts me
but it’s fine, it’s okay
my worth means more to me than anyone
who wants me to swallow parts of myself
to accommodate to them
because my self-esteem means more than acting
like someone else’s dream
so maybe the cost of being truly me is low
compared to the parts of my true self
I would lose for false friendships and false loves

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía:incompatibilidad

here’s the English version of this poem:

Poetry: Long Ago

por obligación y conveniencia seguimos juntos
ni siquiera queda cenizas del fuego
que alguna vez hubo entre nosotros
ni siquiera me puedo acordar
del último beso que compartimos
podríamos culpar la monotonía
o podríamos ser honestos y aceptar
que lo nuestro siempre fue un cuento
de incompatibilidad

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: carcel

here’s the English version of this poem:

poetry: dreams and goals

nos encarcelamos en monotonía y rutina
Convirtiéndonos victimas de nuestras vidas sin sueños y metas
pensando que nuestros mejores años han pasado
hundiendonos en el falso cuento que la sociedad
nos viendo que nuevas aventuras son solo
nuestros días de juventud

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: on the shitty days

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

on the shitty days I remember there is another open mic to go to

not every day can be filled with peace, calm, joy or excitement
Some days are absolutely shitty and depressing
Some days it’s hard to get up in the morning
without screaming fuck repeatedly on your way to work
Some days are overwhelming to push through
as hormones and emotions fuck you up
Some days are for questioning your life choices over
and over again allowing doubt and insecurity
to cloud you its accomplice self invalidation
Some days are for getting up only to look forward to the end of it
when you can sleep with the hope for a better day

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: overthinking

I wrote this poem in May of 2023.

some days though

just when I’m about to close my eyes
the overthinking starts and robs me of my sleep
I obsess and obsess over something thoughtless I’ve said
I try my best to remember the four agreements
I try my best to take control of my emotions
But here I am still losing sleep over something
that won’t even matter in a day or two