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poetry: chalk line

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

always a Reina

I used to be an expert at throwing my own pity parties
I drew a chalk line of the outline of my body
and called myself the victim of my life
It was before self-awareness kicked in,
it was before radical honesty
it was comforting to drown in my misery
but now, if I feel myself treading in a sea of self-pity
I look back on all of the progress I’ve made
and all of the healing I’ve done
and am reassured I’m not a victim anymore
I never really was
I was always a diamond buried under a mountain
of mental illness-and now I shine
with the queen energy that took me a long time
to uncover

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

poetry: another day

Aqui esta la version en espanol:

Poesia: Solo y Agotado

another illegal dies under suspicious circumstances and no one cares
or mourns him,
some even comment on how he should have stayed in his country-
and it’s hard to understand the inhumanity, the hateful rhetoric
Is his life worth less because of his ethnicity and immigration status?

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: target

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

Family life in the 80s
Family life in the 80s

my aunt treated us like we were inferior and subhuman
constantly pointing out our flaws with subtle sarcasm
putting pressure on my mom to choose her over us
insulting my father or sister
what about us made her project her insecurities
Was it my dad’s intelligence or my sister’s beauty?
or maybe she really hated my mom for having everything she didn’t have
a loving and doting husband
and all healthy children
What made us a target for my aunt’s abuse?

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: integration

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

ready to get to integration


The scared and anxious little girl and the insecure and clingy woman tug at me-
I try to avoid them and lock them up in a box, but it never happens that way
They refuse to go away when a trigger of trauma visits me
And once again, I am lost in the alter ego I made up to protect myself
the one who shows up in confidence and screams through her poetry
but if I want to reach integration
I need to allow the little girl and the insecure woman space to reside within me
and honor them with powerful words of praise
because they, too, were part of my strength and resilience through the many traumas
It may feel painful at times-but for me to get to become a whole person
and reach emotional maturity – I need to walk hand in hand with the ones
who made me the powerful and confident woman I currently am

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: quien soy

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: Last Week

no se quien soy-esa es mi verdad
todos tienen sus opiniones acerca de quién soy
o quien debo ser
Madres, hija, trabajadora, estudiante, hermana y novia
son los papeles asignaron a mi-
pero me siento una impostora, una fracasada en todos esos roles
y sin saber quien soy debajo de las capas de estas identidades forzadas
sobre mi persona-
quien soy, quien soy, quien soy

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

poetry: deer in the runner’s eyes

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

the deer is vibin and thrivin

Running away from my feelings, running away from my thoughts
I will my legs to keep going as they start to groan
and threaten to turn to mush
the autumn sun shines on me and this should lift my spirits
but the gloom stay within as I run, run, run
Running away from my feelings, running away from my thoughts
I still hate everything-especially myself
Thinking of all my wrongs and how I’m doomed to a life
of solitary confinement
Will I ever fix what’s wrong with me?
and then I see it-a deer a few yards away from me
3 second glances are exchanged it runs across the road
away from me-
and something shifts in me
hope is awakened with a reminder of nature’s splendor
it puts everything in perspective
I am but a speck in the universe
a creation of GOD
It’s a waste to focus on past regrets and could’ve beens
I need to seize the moment of what is and what could be-
and I run on to the next chapter of my life

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poesía: el accidente

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: Lost

Perdida en frustracion y desesperacion, no se que voy a hacer-
Por fin, estaba tomando pasos para un futuro mejor
pero de nuevo me encuentro con otro obstáculo por mi culpa
porque qué diablos no mire bien antes de salir en la calle
y en un santo amén perdi mi independencia

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poesía: mentira tóxica

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: False Fairy Tale

todos creen en nuestra obra de teatro
tienen la impresión que vivimos un cuento de hadas
si solo supieran como me insultas detrás de las puertas cerradas
o como mi almohada se moja con mis lagrimas por tu desprecio
estarían con sus bocas abiertas por la mentira tóxica
que vivimos cada dia

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poesía: en un santo amén

here’s the English version of this poem:

Poetry: Puppet

me tenías como un titere siempre arrastrándome
de acuerdo a lo que tu querías, a lo que tu necesitabas
nunca preguntándome o pensando en lo que necesitaba
y aun así en un santo amén cortaste nuestro cuento de amor
porque aunque yo deje que me me jales a tu antojo
todavía no fui suficiente para ti y perdiste interés en mi

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Another One

Bpd life be like…

What’s something most people don’t know about you?

trying to avoid self-destruction. I do everything in my coping toolkit
and since nothing works
I just allow myself to feel-allow my inner critic to win for a bit
I can’t keep fighting my negative thoughts –
they need to be heard and acknowledge
my fears who feed my anxiety telling me I’m crazy
and I’ll never be worthy of anyone
and I listen and cry to my bully within
I allow her to keep going until she starts getting tired
and slowly, I shut her out
at least for a while until another depressive spell happens

10/10/22

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: healthy is not

I wrote this poem in October of 2022.

taco love is a healthy kind of love ALWAYS and FOREVER

I thought that for once I had a healthy kind of love but I was wrong-
Healthy doesn’t carry lies, toning myself down, or accommodate in extremes
Healthy is not running from conflict or avoiding hard conversations
Healthy is not hiding the worst parts of myself because I’m too scared to be alone
Even now, I’m not sure what healthy is-but I didn’t have it with you

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: Kailua Beach

Aqui esta la version en Espanol:

poesia: Aqui

walking along Kailua Beach-remembering the young and impulsive girl I once was
always jumping without looking, always falling in love without thinking
until one day, it all caught up with me and I was ostracized and had to leave
and 4 years later I’m back to the place that brought me so much trauma and chaos
and while I could dwell on my past wrongs and misdeeds
today I’m choosing to give grace and forgiveness to my younger self
who didn’t know any better, who was still discovering who she was