Posted on by pattytacuri

Poesía: Rabia

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/04/poetry-i-wish/

estoy cansada de tragarme las opiniones de otra personas
que piensan que ellos me conocen a mi mejor de que yo me conozco
Asentir de acuerdo que ellos saben lo que en mejor para mi
pero cuando me defiendo
me acusan de ser otra Latina ardiente y furiosa
entonces sigo tragándome su palabras hirientes e ignorantas
que me hacen sentir pequeña y como una estúpida
mientras me quemo adentro con una rabia grande e intensa

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: My Three Kings

me and my 3 kings

Who are your favorite people to be around?

I met my first king at 17
when the nurse placed an alien like being in my arms
She was like “feed him”and I was like “how do I do that?”
What should I do with him?
Eventually I figured it out

I met my first king at 24
as a birthday present, just like me
he had to make a dramatic entrance
but it was love at first sight
No one could take him from my arms
I knew what to do

I met my third king at 30
He was a dream delivered
After a dream lost the previous year
He was planned, he was awaited, he was loved
He was welcome by everyone
with him, I felt a completion of love

Posted on by pattytacuri · 6 Comments

Poetry: A Knock on My Door

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

this kid makes my dark days worth living

When darkness comes in and my sadness sets in
it covers me and I can’t see the point of it all
And then I hear a knock and it’s my son
And I remember, today he’s my life’s purpose
I need to get up and face another dreadful day
My child needs food and shelter
I can’t let my depression win
I’m a mother first
My darkness will have to be martyred
Remembering over and over again
on days like today my child’s presence
makes my bad days worth living

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poetry: The Gift

Share one of the best gifts you’ve ever received.

When I look at you-
I see a promise of love
in the purest form
No ulterior motives
No second guessing
You’re sure of me
You love me
I’m not used to this
This-which is easy
This-which is true
This-which is happiness
This -which is a gift of intimacy
Wrapped up in your embrace

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poetry: Existing

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

Existing was this never ending sorrow
Existing was a “what the point of it all” status
Existing was a horrible and exhausting nightmare
I couldn’t want to wake up from
But now..
Existing is welcoming the excitement of the morning sun
Existing is looking forward to my next chapter
Existing is a hopeful and lovely dream
I’m currently living in

Posted on by pattytacuri · 4 Comments

Poetry: Scenes of Dissociation

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

share your story

I fantasize about death after my boyfriend’s rejection
I’m so out of touch with reality, a car stops inches away from me
the driver honks at me and cusses me out
I am 15

I want to throw myself of the bridge on the way
to confirm I’m my parent’s worst failure
but a kick inside me saves me
I am 17

I want my baby to stop crying, my head is starting to spin
with psychosis and I hold him a little too tight
until my husband takes him from away me
I am 30

I’m crying while spewing nonsense
while my lover looks at me in horror and disgust
I know it’s over
I am 40

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Poesía: Mosquita Muerta

Escribí este poema en febrero del 2022.

mosquita muerta

Mis compañeros quieren que me trepa en el armazón de barras
Y tengo mucho miedo y me da ansiedad
Les miento y les digo “mi mami no me dio permiso”
Tengo 5 años

Le digo a mi hermana que tengo que estudiar
con mis amigas pero en realidad
voy al cine con unos muchachos
Tengo 15 años

Llego a mi casa embaraza de 7 meses
y mis padres esta desilusionados sin comprender
“el porqué” si soy una niña buena
Tengo 17 años

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: Someday is Today

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

someday everything won’t feel so heavy
someday I won’t swim in anxiety
someday I’ll find self love
Someday I’ll be enough
Someday, someday, someday
Maybe someday is today
today I see the light
today I’m grateful for my life
today I feel like enough
Today I have self love
Maybe just maybe
Today I’m truly happy

Posted on by pattytacuri · 3 Comments

Poetry: Temporary Cure

I wrote this on Valentine’s Day of 2022.

me on Valentine’s Day of 2022

I fucked many recklessly without a purpose
some part of me was looking for love
it was a temporary cure when I wanted to avoid emptiness
it was a temporary cure for my painful loneliness
so I used the the magic of my body
to feel like somebody, like I was worthy
But one day I got tired of how it wasn’t enough
and found my worth and self love
I mean, sure it was fun but I’m done, done and done
I forgive the person I once was who mistook lust for love
I didn’t know any better and settled for prince charmings
when I really needed a king to match my love energy
A king who accepts all of me and not just her body
A king who wants to evolve and grow with me

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poesia: Hielo

Here is the English version of the poem that inspired this one:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2021/12/21/poetry-thanks-to-you/

el hielo de tu despedida me destruyo
eras otra leccion que aprendi, otro hombre que me quemo
Y después de 4 años quieres pedir disculpas
disminuyendo todo lo que pasó
como si fuera un accidente menor
como si no me arruinaste la vida
como si no me trataste como basura
Querido, es demasiado tarde para tus remordimientos
dile a tu conciencia que se calle
solita, me encargue del desmadre que dejaste
Y nosotros hemos sobrevivido sin it
Entonces, vete, vete, vete
Nunca más regreses aquí

Posted on by pattytacuri

Poesía: Hombre Casado

Here is the English Version of this poem:

https://lifeonthebpd.com/2022/01/11/hey-%f0%9f%91%8b-married-man/

Mi corazón se rehúsa a dejarte
no importa que duro lo intento
no importa con quien estoy para escapar
los pensamientos de ti
es inmoral que te ame
pero mi corazón es demasiado salvaje
para escuchar logica y razon
te quiere a ti y solo a ti

Posted on by pattytacuri · 1 Comment

Poetry: Duality

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

feral and without a filter

I’m constantly shunned from men who profess their love
when I show up feral and without a filter
They’ll call me their princess until I show them my wild
They always love me beautiful and submissive
and they leave when I get assertive and subversive
They feel deceived when they fall for a polite princess
And somehow end up with an amazon Queen
Maybe it’s the Incan in me who can’t reign it in
They say, “you’re too much, you’re too crazy”
Is there a man out there who can handle my duality?

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: My Happiest Moments

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I’m 18 and walking across the football stadium to receive my diploma
the one I almost didn’t get, my parents and I breathe a sigh of relief

I’m 24 and I hold my baby boy in my arms, it’s love at first sight
he’s the best birthday present and I’m humbled

I’m 28 and I’m graduating from college,it’s been a an arduous journey to get here
but I make it and my dad cries and tells me how proud he is of me

I’m 30 and holding my third baby boy, he’s my rainbow after the worst storm
everyone in my family holds him and there is an overflow of love

I’m 36 and my oldest son is walking across the gymnasion to receive his diploma
I cry with elation and pride, my heart is filled with pride and joy for him

Posted on by pattytacuri · 2 Comments

Poetry: Forgiving My Younger Self

I wrote this poem in February of 2022.

I forgive myself at 15 for crying over an idiot
who was never worth my time and energy
but he did spark my poetic voice

I forgive myself at 20 for writing more than 50 poems
about a 6 week relationship in 2001
but it did make for some hilarious blog content in 2021

I forgive myself at 25 for not fighting harder for my dreams
and for swallowing my anger and angst for the comfort of others
but that year I became a playwright

I forgive myself at 30 for drowning the writer in me
as I lost myself in my roles as wife and mother
but that year I launched my blog

I forgive myself at 35 for swallowing a bottle of xanax
because I felt like a failure as wife, mother, and worker
but the dark poetry from that time is some of my best

I forgive myself at 40 for wanting to die for two weeks in July
after being discarded by the “supposed” love of my life
but that summer I found the confidence to call myself a writer