Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: you’re so sensitive

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

poor kid-she deserved better

I grew up too quickly in some areas and remained a child in others –
it’s a truth that I hate to admit
it wasn’t my parents’ fault
they did the best with what they had –
an extra sensitive child with medical issues
it was too much for them to handle
when they were trying their best to keep their own heads above water
there was no extra time for the extra needs and demands I had
and while middle age holds space to have compassion for them
I still need to reparent my inner child
who comes out in the most inoportune of time
and has caused terrible havoc and harmed others
but it’s not her fault or mine
It happens sometimes, and now I’m taking the time
to nurture her so she can finally grow up

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: I’m a fucking delight

I wrote this poem in December of 2022.

I’m okay…just let me turn my pain into art

I try my best to take delight in my life and enjoy everything good
but fuck it, if I have to be honest with myself-
sometimes the depression gets the best of me
and I drink and write sad and pathetic things
about how I want to cut my wrists and watch the blood leave my body
maybe I’m just embracing the cliche of being a tortured artist
or my darkness needs a place to fucking go-
at least I’m now acknowledging it instead of suppressing it-
and I almost spiral into a cycle of self loathing
but instead say “fuck it- this is who I fucking am sometimes”-
An emo girl caught up in her trauma and hormones-
Wait-how did this poem turn into–
Oh yeah-the prompt delight
well whatever this is its the best drunk and depressed me has to give
to my creativity tonight

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: Counterfeit

I wrote this poem inspired by a coworker who pretended to be my friend while stabbing me in the back. She also gaslighted me about the whole situation when I confronted her. She also accused me of neglecting my oldest son when I went back to college and told me, “you be like other Hispanics and just work hard” . I left this workplace shortly after. All I can say is don’t trust March Pisces from Gainesville. Lol.

honestly tho, Merissa-this one’s for you

with this pen in my hand your reputation I’ll disband
20 years later, it might seem like an overreaction
but the trauma you cause still causes me turmoil
it’s time to let the the world know
what kind of person you really are
pretending to be my friend and have my best interests at heart
but behind my back you made me the subject of gossip among our colleagues
and this almost broke me apart and caused deep seated racial trauma
Were you jealous of me or were you projecting your insecurities?
I hope one day everyone sees past your bullshit
And realizes you’re the biggest counterfeit

2004

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: my season of healing

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

this is how healing looks like-me and my notebook against the world

healing is chaos and calm intertwined with diving timing
because after almost falling of the cliff of insanity
and wanting to end it all
a light flickered inside of me to push through-
that light was sometimes my anger, therapy, poetry
or my friends encouraging me to to move forward
to continue on my path of self discovery
and a year later-
I no longer care about why someone’s love wavered
or why someone treated me like shit
all i care about is vibrating to the version
of my highest and healthiest self
I care about intentionally setting fire to the path
of personal and professional success

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: arco iris

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: Golden Light

Joven y impetuosa
viví una vida donde mis impulsos y hormonas
controlaban todo-
hasta que un me encontré con una sorpresa inesperada
que cambiaría el rumbo de mi destino
fue mi hijo-una bendición mandada de Dios
con el madure, con el aprendí el significado del amor
fue el arco iris de una vida llena de caos y tempestad

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: hope for the future

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

sometimes it works though

for a long time I had given up on love-
thinking why should I even try
If I screw it up each and every time
but lately I feel myself lighter, happier-
and full of hope
that even after my disastrous love history
That’s still a world of romance left to experience and explore
There’s still more muses to write poetry about-
my love story didn’t end with an electronic pink slip
or being blocked from my whatevership
my love story will start over again
with someone who’s brave and strong enough to handle me-
and can’t imagine his life without me

Posted on by pattytacuri

Words

Me with my boys at my niece’s Quinceñera

Who are your current most favorite people?

My favorite words are my sons names

names that taught me about patience

and unconditional love

names that have made me get up

when I didn’t want to 

names that fill me with faith and hope

when I’m about to lose it

names that make me want to become 

a better person than I was yesterday

names  I live for  

names  I would die for 

7/6/22

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: atrapada

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: Frigid

me ignoras, me rechazas, me conviertes en nada-
y trato de acercarme para revivir lo que teníamos
pero tu me haces sentir como una idiota, una estupida
me dices que no pasa nada y que estoy loca
Y yo me siento atrapada porque no quiero quedarme sola

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: breakfast

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

still haven’t found the one to have this heartwarming scene with…oh well

I make breakfast for me and my lover as he looks at me
he’s surprised i know how to cook
I’ve deceived him, lied that I didn’t know my way around the kitchen
I didn’t want to ruin my bad girl image
but for him I’ll uncover my domestic side, my feminine side
the side that wants to take care of him

Posted on by pattytacuri

poesía: renuncio

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: Resignation

por fin me doy a mi lado aunque pierda mi seguridad económica
me harté de tanta hipocresía, me harté de ser maltratada por mi raza
cuarenta horas a la semana-
me harté de ser el chiste de la oficina y hoy renuncio-
mi estabilidad emocional vale más que un trabajo lleno de pendejas racistas
que nunca me aceptaron y mi trataron como la peor cosa
valgo mas que un trabajo que solo brinda ansiedad
y un dolor en mi corazón con sus cuchillo de racismo y sexismo
me amo demasiado para seguir en un ambiente tóxico
que me mata dia por dia

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: no place like home

I wrote this poem in November of 2022.

melodramatic Peruvian Energy..jajaja

my final step in returning to myself was returning to my homeland
once I finally found my stable sense of identity I had desperately searched for
since I could remember-
I felt like Alice in Wonderland
my eyes wide open, my mouth opened in awe-
taking in the glorious sights and sounds
of my birthplace
the 32 years away from it didn’t matter
the ocean, the mountains, the city welcomed me back
Reminding me it had always been there for me to come back to
and the powerful and profound emotions I felt in standing on the ground
that saw my birth and early childhood
made me understand there really is no place like home

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

poesía: desesperación

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: My Happy Place

anhelo los días de mi juventud
cuando no tenía preocupaciones y responsabilidades
cuando tenía la libertad de hacer lo que quería con mi dia
cuando no conocía la oscuridad y el vacío que me consume
y me llena de frustracion y desesperacion

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

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

poesía: puerta cerrada

here’s the english version of this poem:

Poetry: Poor and Destitute

apareció en mi puerta con una mirada vacía
pidiéndome un poco de dinero para su adición
pero me acordé de su nuestro pasado tumultuoso
y le digo no
ella me trata de chantajear con nuestro enlace de sangre
pero no me dejo manipular
hoy elijo mi tranquilidad, mi paz, y mi salvación
hoy cierro la puerto
a anos y anos de trastornos que ella causó,
que ella me hizo sufrir por su egoísmo
hoy empieza una nueva etapa en mi vida
donde por primera vez siento la ruptura de la cadenas
de codependencia de mi familia