When I tell you I’m a poet- please take me seriously don’t think I’m some cute girl who writes a few verses in her room about how your kiss is a new kind of heaven Poetry for me has a much deeper meaning, poetry is how I bleed out all of my emotions I hold within
When I tell you I’m a poet- please don’t laugh at me or mock me don’t berate the simplicity of my words I weave into verse It’s how I make sense of my explosion of thoughts It’s how I express what I can’t say out loud
When I tell you I’m a poet- don’t try to cure me of my poetic nature and prey on my insecurities and try to kill my dreams of making my art seen I know how the odds are stacked against someone like me I don’t do it to make it to the mainstream- I do it so other women like me can be seen, can be inspired to dream
And finally when I tell you I’m a poet- Appreciate the artist in me, make yourself a sanctuary to put my poetry in- I’m not asking for endless compliments or an ego boost I’m asking for a safe space in you to love the poet I hold within
His love is fire And I keep getting burned by it and even though his love burns me profoundly Every time I get too close I heal and vow to never see him again But once again, his fire enchants me, puts a spell on me And I return to his burning love Even when I know it means I’ll get burned once again Will my addiction to his burning love ever stop?
I don’t want him to be a part of me- And yet he appears in my mind, my dreams, my poetry He doesn’t deserve any amount of space he comes to occupy in my life And within me -and yet he comes and stays I tell him to go away Stay away, and forget about me- But it never happens that way He consumes every bit of me and it’s a lost cause to get him out out of me
sometime we lose our way and buy shit from Amazon we didn’t need
life is full of making mistakes and then regretting them It can’t happen any other way because to be human is to make mistakes to be human is a series of misadventures where sometimes we lose our way
How many times have I lied to myself when I was young in believing some man’s love would save me, would complete me when all it ever did was decimate me over and over again but I refused to believe love could be anything but beautiful Until one day I learned to be honest with myself and it was a lesson in dialectics of how love can be both an ugly and beautiful thing
vivo en la oscilación de mis emociones entre extremos de altos y bajos trato de encontrar la equilibración dentro de mi pero es un unicornio para mi algo que nunca existirá para mi
algunas personas me juzgaran, me llamaran ardida, amargada porque yo cuento la verdad de mi cuento de drama y trauma porque ya no me quedo calladita de lo que me inquieta ya no me trago mi dolor, ya no me hago chiquita para la comodidad de otras personas ahora escribo, grito, y canto todo lo que me paso todo lo que me dolió-porque por mucho tiempo guarde dentro de mi muchos sentimientos y eso me hirió ahora tomo espacio y anuncio mi llegada para que todos sepan que soy una leona cobrando las deudas de aquellas personan que me traumatizando
Sentía un mundo de furia e ira dentro de mi por tu ausencia porque tu nunca fuiste parte de su vida, parte de su historia pero un dia encontre paz y misericordia hacia ti entendí porque las cosas pasaron tenían que pasar y solté todo el resentimiento y odio del cual me aferraba en vez me llene con agradecimiento por tu existencia que fue una bendición que me enseñó el sentido del amor incondicional
I wrote this poem in March of 2023. My reference is to Joe Goldberg from the show “YOU” and not Joe Biden( who is in his own right a monster as well.lol)
random thoughts from my 15 year old self
I sit around in horror- flagellating myself for comparing myself to a monster I know that this was the only way to cope and process with emotions that threatened to crush me but if I had to be honest with myself it makes me question the reality I was living in and maybe the psychotic who resided inside of me
las dudas de mi capacidad como madre me llenaba con inseguridad y me robaba mi sueño Quizas debi ser mas madura, mas estable, mas exigente todos tenían consejos y comentarios acerca de mí mil y uno errores porque mis hijos eran como yo marchando al ritmo de su propio tambor pero después de 24 años de ser madre solté las opiniones y juzgamientos de todos yo se que he sido y sigo siendo una buena porque aunque mis hijos no fueron criados en mansiones o con lujos siempre tuvieron lo mejor de mi y eso siempre fue suficiente
only tacos have an invitation to my heart…always and forever
On days like today, I feel too wild, too untamed to be loved, to be handled by anyone I feel like too much and I won’t find anyone who’s enough and I wonder if I’ll really be alone forever because right now that’s what my future looks like and it’s not me trying to diss any potential love candidates it’s me acknowledging how much of an earthquake, a hurricane, a tsunami I can be and even though I’ve done the work to tame my inner demons It still feels like there is still so much work left to do before I feel confident enough to invite anyone else into my chaos
My middle name is Elizabeth. I’m not sure why my parents chose this middle name other than the fact that it was the most generic white sounding name easy to pronounce and a few cousins and one aunt had this middle name. I was never been attached to it until my 30s when I took the shortened version of it, “Eliza” and unintentionally chose this as my alter ego and later on as a pseudonym for my writing. After the great depression of 2016 and 2017, followed what I now called the “great manic episode of 2018” in which Eliza first appeared. During that time, I did many unhealthy and toxic things like go on an array of dating apps, drink heavily, and just indulge in these terrible and self destructive behaviors.
Eliza in 2018
I used Eliza as the profile name for those dating apps and also, when I started blogging again in 2019. After much therapy and introspection, I’ve determined that Eliza is my shadow side, my alter ego that’s been much needed to deal with my depression, my anger, my madness-basically the worst of my mental illness. She was much needed to be able to deal when my emotions got overwhelming and I didn’t know how to keep going. I’ll say that while she’s caused much mischief, as I’ve started to recover from mental illness, she’s been instrumental in healing. I’ve learned to used this side of me to do badass and awesome things like conquer my driving phobia, learn to swim, travel to my homeland, write rage poetry, and perform at open mic.
me using Eliza’s confidence to perform
As time passed and I recovered more and more, I learned that eventually, I’d get to integration of self and I’d had to let go of her. Well, sort of. It took a while to get to the integration of self and this took many steps (I’ll write more about this in another blog post). The last step to get to my integration where I would become my most authentic self was my divorce which was 6 months ago. I knew as soon that afternoon after my divorce was finalized, I’d have to let go of Eliza, as a pseudonym, an alter ego, a protective entity to protect me. That afternoon, I switched all of my social media profiles and my two blogs to my real name.
meet integrated Patty-integrated and empowered
It was a very scary thing to do but a much needed one to finish this process of integration I started a few years ago. It was hard because for so long I hung onto this part of me that had gotten through the roughest of times and also, using my real name everywhere was extremely uncomfortable but I had to do it. I’m not going to lie and say that Eliza is completely gone because she’s not but she’s integrated into who I am now and I no longer use her as an excuse when my anger gets the best of me and a rage poem comes out. The best way to put it is that I’ve fully accepted that she’s a part of Patty but no longer controls me, defines me or is even the worst of me. She just is. I’ve learned the past few years how to manage this part of me in a much healthier manner that’s been productive and helpful to me in achieving my goals. Here are three poems I’ve written about her:
shout out to these folks who were there for Eliza when no one else was….hahaha
Eliza and Patty
If you’re gonna love Patty-you’re going to have to live with Eliza She’s the dark and loud side of me I try to keep her at bay , I try to ignore her But then something angers me and she appears I used to loathe her and say-hey, that’s not me-but now I accept She’s always been a part of me She makes me brave and strong-she makes me crazy and creative I haven’t had writers block since I’ve stop trying to suppress her And while it’s embarrassing that I have an alter ego She was necessary for progress and growth
10/13/22
Shadow
my shadow waits and waits to be integrated she’s been patient long enough she wants me to feel the true power of being whole she’s stayed too long in the sidelines as I called her “bad” and a “complete stranger” and I was ashamed of her and at times she jolted me and came out during my bouts of impulsivity or my super angry poetry and now I finally understand she’s me Well the part within me I hate to acknowledge but I’m no longer afraid of her and understand her and am ready for her to be acknowledged and take her rightful place within She will no longer be treated like a dirty mistress Nah, she’ll rule like a queen and I’ll feel whole and empowered
11/26/22
I run with my shadow
my transformation and rebirth meant giving voice to my shadow who’s vindictive, petty, and mean I’ve never really allowed her to breathe much less be seen and now she’s almost everywhere- taking space in uncomfortable spaces learning she’s not bad- she just needed attention and to feel valued I’ve finally accepted she’s an important part of me who needs to be heard, seen and loved
women are recognized all over the world today but none of us are equal we still have to fight the same bullshit every day if we’re human and show emotion, we’re labeled crazy or dramatic if we want to show off our bodies, we’re labeled slutty or conceited if we don’t give in to our partners because they’re “in the mood” we are called prudes, frigid bitches or worse, we feel obligated to give in to avoid being raped it we’re educated and try to succeed in our careers men are intimidated by us and try hard to dim our light and if we are loud and take up space we are labeled as too much and abandoned it’s like as much as the media try to paint a picture of equality it’s all a fucking lie because in my 42 years on this earth I haven’t lived anywhere where my existence is valued as much as man’s
I wrote this poem in March of 2023. I guess I was angry that day. Lol.
ask me how I self medicated during the height of the pandemic
I’m still salty about how you quarantined assholes treated us essential workers looking down on us, treating us like the plague making judgy statuses about we were all subpar I hope Karma got to some of you and you didn’t just get COVID one time but you got it three or four times I hope y’all got a lifetime of insomnia and cholesterol problems you have to take pills for the rest of your pathetic lives I hope y’all got a guilty conscience and life fucked you over and over again
Life on the BPD 