Posted on by pattytacuri

“He’s like a poem I wish I wrote” ….I’m thankful for the previous versions who’ve led me to who I am today. 🥹🥹🥹 authentic, crazy and a little bit savage ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

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“He’s like a poem I wish I wrote” ….I’m thankful for the previous versions who’ve led me to who I am today. 🥹🥹🥹 authentic, crazy and a little bit savage ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: comfortable

I wrote this poem in March of 2023.

so comfortable I take pics like these….it’s me and my thigh high boots against the world..lol

Finally comfortable in my skin
I’m no longer afraid to show off my majestic beauty
my curves comes one of the seven wonders of the world
and my face is a mosaic of my colonizer and indigenous ancestry
and now I grace the world with my beauty
posting endless selfies in various poses
some people may find it narcissistic
but if you possessed my goddess beauty
would you try to hide it?

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: evolving

I wrote this poem in March of 2023.

this bitch has had more transformations than she cares to remember

My story is important to share, it’s important to write down
but I don’t want to do it from a place of anger, revenge, or ego
It’s strange to say this because for the past 5 years
Anger has been my major inspiration and motivation
to feed the narrative of how everyone has been a villain
and I’ve been a victim
It gave me a sense of martyrdom that allowed me
to find peace for a while
acting like everyone is a problem
While I just flounder around being wronged
And while I have so much compassion and love for this version of me
It’s not who I want to continue to be
It’s not how I want to be perceived
because I’m more than being angry and vindictive
I’m also kindness, goodness, empathy, and love
And when I share my story-I need to remember these things

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: personal spring

I wrote this poem in March of 2022.

basically how I felt by the muse who inspired this poem-hahaha

Is this our new beginning?
our own personal spring
when we delve into lust
and almost mistake it for love
Where we’re almost lovers
Or is this another false dream
And you turn once again into
my unreliable love king?