Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poetry: abandonment wounds

I wrote this poem in December of 2023.

I bet all of my female ancestors still remember their third of december

abandonment wounds run deep in my bloodline
I’ve lost count of how many woman in my family
whose lovers absconded, who’s lovers left them
for their own version of Heather-
maybe this explains my epic overreaction every time a lover absconded
their departure triggers trauma in my DNA
from the abandoned women ancestors before me

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: Standing Firm (inspired by Conan Gray’s Heather)

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

I secretly wish I was Conan Gray

I try on grace and self compassion thinking of the many times
I wanted to be someone else
Mirroring my sister and my best friends to escape from myself
never thinking I was enough-
I even tried to be like my former metamours-
so smart, so pretty, so American
they were placed on pedestals by my exes
so of course I wanted to be like them-
never understood how I never stood a chance
and how nothing I did would matter
my exes always chose them
they were safe,predictable and shared their background
everything I was never going to be
so I chose to embrace who I really am
a woman with a chaotic history who feels everything with a magnitude of intensity
a woman who no longer mirrors others to gain a sense of identity
I now stand firm in the authenticity of my duality
I embrace my God given gift of my creativity and share it shamelessly
there’s no turning back now that I’m fully me
and I no longer care who loves and accepts me

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: como es ella

escribí este poema en Julio del 2022.

Como es ella, la que escogiste, la que quieres
la que ocupa mi sitio en tu corazón
¿le llamas princesa también?
¿Le llamas el amor de tu vida?
Le llamas angel?
Ojala que ella pueda apreciarte y pueda ser la mujer sumisa
que tu deseas porque tu mereces alguien que te traiga calma
y no una mujer caótica como yo

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: fingiré

here is the english version of this poem:

Poetry: Our Spot

tus palabras me queman hasta que soy nada
fui otra aventura más, otro tiempo divertido
para alguien buscando huir de su monotonía
no hay nada más que decir o hacer
fingiré estar feliz qué decidiste regresar con ella
mientras me hundo en un ciclo de autodestrucción y remordimientos