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poetry: lies we tell ourselves

I wrote this poem in March of 2023.

the sexual tension between me and ghosting everyone is insane

we lie to ourselves continuously about our needs
to save face, to avoid conquering our fears
to not feel insecure
we’ll tell ourselves we are better off alone and independent
when in reality as humans
we are meant to be social
we are meant to share ourselves with others
but it’s cooler to say, “I’m good with my solitude,
I’m my own best friend”
because deep down inside we don’t want to get hurt again

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Ivy

9/30/2023

Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.

the ceilings of America are laced with poison ivy
every time I act out of the norm or forget to code switch
people tell me I’m too dramatic -ouch-
accused of being toxic and crazy-damn
and a rash of doubt takes over my mind
I’ll never fit it, no one will ever love or accept me
and I turn down who I am
but even that doesn’t work
it makes things worse
and I explode and project-
fuck you, you’re blocked
then I discover therapy -slowly I heal
accept the pieces of myself that will never fit in
exhibit myself in my most authentic form
and slowly the poison ivy becomes an ivy of love and growth
and I understand that to be happy
I need let go of normalcy
and embrace my unconventional and eccentric self

Posted on by pattytacuri

poetry: under

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

me with one of my voices of reason

I feel left out by my friends and I cry and whine
“they hate me, I’m not good enough for them”
my voice of reason tells me
“it will be okay, you don’t need them”
it’s my sister

I break down in the middle of the sidewalk
and cry and scream
“I’m unworthy of love, I’ll be alone forever”
my voice of reason tells,
“that’s not true, you just need to focus on you boo”
It’s my son

my voice of reason has comforted me and loved me unconditionally
my voice of reason keeps me from going under

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: Prodigal Daughter

I wrote this poem in September of 2022.

this prodigal daughter got accidental bangs in Lima

the prodigal daughter returns to a homeland that she barely remembers
it’s been 32 years since she stepped foot on Peruvian soil
and this feeling is unworldly-indescribable-unimaginable
she was a child when she left
never quite understanding the whys or hows of her family’s immigration journey
in her adopted homeland, she suffered through hardships and failures
but the ancestors always protected her
from drowning in the immense waves of chaos and disasters, she ended up being tossed in
and she’ll go to their graves and pay reverence to them for shielding her from danger
the prodigal daughter returns, and she feels nostalgia rushing into her body and mind
she is finally where she belongs

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: mistress

I’ve tried on the role of the fun and sexy mistress
and failed every single time
I need to be the main character in my lover’s story
and not relegated to a dirty secret
the side chick that’s good enough to fuck
but not good enough for a relationship status
my love is immense and beautiful
and not for those cowards who don’t want all of it
I’m an Incan Goddess mixed with Peruvian aristocracy
I’m royalty and will treated as such

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Poetry: False Stability *Trigger Warning*

The last time my ex fat shame me..

Appearances were kept well for 15 years

 the husband, the salaried job, the 3 offsprings

I pretended like everything was fine

And yet there were ominous signs

I never felt like my authentic self

and always felt false

I tried on this so called suburban bliss 

and mediocres routines

but knew it just wasn’t me

So I ended up in  profound misery

And one day I wanted to forever sleep

To forget my mediocre reality

 I took 15 numb feeling pills

one for every pseudo happy year

I wanted to slip into a forever dream

to never wake to my false stability 

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Poetry: No Expectations

But I lost it like a promise- Conan Gray

I told myself “no expectations”

“Just use him for a short time”

That’s all he’ll be good for

But his words, his gaze

His hands, his lips

Felt like home the first night

This can’t be happening

This can’t be real 

This isn’t who I want to be with

But my heart wouldn’t listen

To the logic in my head, 

The advice from my friends

I had the first hit and I needed to go back-

I feel like a pathetic drug addict-

I told myself “no expectations”

And yet a year later-

Here we still are in our 

Intense and passionate love affair