There Is No Lucille. [18. 1. 24.]

cattille's core catalogue ['24 - '25]

cattille's catalogue ['24] : lieux, personnes et actions

cattille's catalogue ['25] : pays de rêve

citadelle [24. 1. 24]

i just wanna live like i know every thing,

i know everything.

like i own it,

i own it.

but the world didn't have time for a girl who lives like she wants,

dreams like she wants,

achieves like she wants.

so, why would it have time for a lady who does?

the truth is,

it didn't.

and the world still won't make time for a woman living like she lives,

doing what she did,

succeeding like she had.

so she says forget it:

"since they don't have time for my dreams, they must not have time for my success"

they can crumble, they can rot.

for all i care

because i don't care.

they don't have time for her dreams, they must not have time for her success.

they didn't have time then and they won't have time now.

i'll make my own time.

with lip-gloss and flowy-flower dresses, curly dark tresses.

we'll make our own time.

with short hair, long hair, no hair.

we'll make our own time.

with or without monolids.

we'll make our own time.

with a slimmer or bigger frame.

we'll make our own time.

with stainless or inked skin.

we'll make our own time.

we'll be our own fortress.

our own citadel.

it's gonna be glorious.

with peace and shades of pink

and side walks of rose gold, only the finest metals.

pearls will adorn us

and their mothers will make up our housings.

pearlescent skies will cover the heavens for us.

the weather will be warm but never too hot.

the air will never have foul smells nor will it show signs of pollution.

never ending days yet everlasting nights.

this time;

we'll know it

we'll own it.

we'll make our own time.

we'll be our own fortress.

our own citadel;

if we can't,

we'll rot trying,

trying to fashion our citadelle.

because the world is the angriest hellcat out here

and fantasy's a killer.

Copyright © 2024 Cattille Quettea

cattille's catalogue ['24]

please note that all of my work is under the copyright license of "all rights reserved" [©] ; this prohibits anyone from using, modifying or "continuing" my work without my written consent.

let it be known that i did not own / edit the photos i use alongside my works unless there is a "catquette" or "cattille.quettea" watermark on it.

do not forget to follow my my actual girlblog: @cattillequettea <3

verselets

recueil de poèmes

'citadelle'

published: thursday, 25. 1. 24.

'ratgirl'

published: tuesday, 27. 2. 24

'everlast'

published: thursday, 4. 7. 24.

'lay claim'

published: saturday, 10. 8. 24.

'display'

published: friday, 23. 8. 24.

'latch'

published: thursday, 26. 9. 24.

'FROTH'

published: thursday, 20. 12. 24.

-

'lucille' series [18. 1. 24. - 20. 1. 24.]

'there is no lucille'

published: thursday, 18. 1. 24.

'there was never a lucille'

published: friday, 19. 1. 24.

'there will never be a lucille'

published: saturday, 20. 1. 24.

yarns

miscellaneous

'fischer's girls, fischer's girl'

published: saturday, 1. 6. 24.

description: she is a poem but not quite a poem, you know? a mix between that and a personal diary entry. whatever she is, it just didn't feel right to place her in that section because i knew she could be more. she could be a star, but most importantly, she could scould stand alone. and that's exactly what she's doing in the miscellaneous section.

annonces

(the) differences of the liquid sun¹

announced: thurs, 11. 4. 24.

cattille's catalogue ['25]

please note that all of my work is under the copyright license of "all rights reserved" [©] ; this prohibits anyone from using, modifying or "continuing" my work without my written consent.

let it be known that i did not own / edit the photos i use alongside my works unless there is a "catquette" or "cattille.quettea" watermark on it.

do not forget to follow my my actual girlblog: @sveltette <3

verselets

recueil de poèmes

'demolish'

published: friday, 23. 5. 25.

'spun out'

published: sunday, 1. 6. 25.

yarns

-

miscellaneous

-

annonces

vote

announced: friday, 30. 5. 25.

vote results

announced: sunday, 15. 6. 25.

there will never be a lucille. [20. 1. 24.]

the heart of she continues to beat,

but she is dead.

the pupils of she keep on intaking,

but she provides no output.

the limbs, the blood, the grace.

the reputation, the responsibility, the face.

the sins that flood the grave.

she needs help,

she'll never be able to obtain.

she is gorgeous,

she's glamour.

she tries not to think yet,

her mind is clamoured.

she's gorgeous,

she is glamour.

she's staring death in the face and

send off bouquets stare right back at her.

a stare so comforting,

so sweet.

her feet gently pushed the chair to the side.

her body flies; so eager for death to meet.

the road was hard.

her soul, now fed.

the heart of she used to continue to beat,

but now she is dead.

Copyright © 2024 Cattille Quettea

fischer's girls, fischer's girl [31. 5. 24.]

let me descend into madness alone.

free of association with others, cold as stone.

let my descent into madness be mine and mine alone.

i've recently discovered bobby fischer and dreamt of him lots...

and i've been playing lots of chess.

why are the mad men the most handsome?

and at what they do, always the best?

now that drives me mad.

but if i'm the best, will i go mad too?

not that he would think much of me,

my insignificance similar to that of a shrew.

a pawn, a gawk and goner.

he's right because i am quite lousy at chess...

and i'd like to stay at home.

he's wrong because i can cook

and i don't and won't leave the intellectual affairs alone.

and other than chess, i'm quite good at them.

i wish to be left alone but not to be left like him.

let me descend into madness alone.

free of association with others, cold as stone.

let my descent into madness be mine and mine alone.

and when i meet my demise, for it, i think my mental would be fit.

during life, people laugh and

my name, they begore.

and i declared i would not be it.

and when i meet my demise, for it, i think my mental would be fit.

i know i will not be missed.

64 squares; a chess board full.

piano chiming in my ears,

dear God, i'm a such fool.

no friends, no company

it's not worth my soul-

nothing is worth just a nobody.

let me descend into madness alone.

free of association with others,

let my descent into madness be mine and mine alone.

i would not be able to fix him,

i'm not even able to fix myself.

i wish i was able to...

to do both.

Copyright © 2024 Cattille Quettea

everlast [1. 7. 24.]

i finally went to a park, getting fresh air outside of my lawn.

days without a sole companion,

days seem that they never end,

sun details the darkness.

bugs, they seem as if they're my only ever friends

rises the moon.

other girls had all their fun, all their men.

over them, they do swoon.

but as for me, i am all alone.

my only company is sun, stars and moon.

silence details my darkness,

rotting alone in a finally clean room.

rises the moon.

something's left within a soul,

yearning,

longing,

with no hope.

rises the moon.

longing for a bezzie.

yearning for some sort of paisan.

i've subsist for far too long.

how did i possibly go on?

i did because i've no hope

and there's nothing else to do but cope.

so i stay up late and sleep all day, then rise in the noon.

Copyright © 2024 Cattille Quettea

spun out [28. 12. 24.]

to drive,

to die,

it's all the same.

my mind,

my heart,

brittle bones and face.

killing yourself for perfection is a way to live.

dying because you cannot achieve it is also a way to wear your skin.

it's nothing.

it's nothing at all.

relish it and watch them fucking fall.

to drive,

to die,

it's all the same.

my mind,

my heart,

brittle bones and face.

i'll drive,

i'll die,

it's all the same.

Copyright © 2025 Cattille Quettea

ratgirl [24. 2. 24]

"why so messy?", is what she asks me.

'why so messy?', is what i think.

none other to blame but myself.

beautiful chaos and beautiful clothes on the floor are my shell.

for i have nobody besides myself.

no friends, nobody else.

outside of my phrontistery,

nobody contacts me.

i am not worth a friend to them yet,

they are worth a friend to me.

then-

at home, all alone.

no matter if the temperature is warm or cold.

no matter if my room's door is opened or closed.

no matter if my speech is silent or bold.

not physically yet,

i'm at home, all alone.

my mind's imagination is organised.

quite organised and clean.

the thought of true friends, a fun life and romance is with what it gleams.

i live in my room,

apathy lives in me.

life is not miserable,

nor is it fun.

it's like this for all but,

at the same time for none.

none other to blame but myself.

beautiful chaos and beautiful clothes on the floor are my shell.

but gosh,

doesn't it look like hell?

Copyright © 2024 Cattille Quettea

greetings, my alstroemeriaceae. i just want to inform you all that i have uploaded some other poetry that sort of touches a different aesthetics on my other page @insanitygirls . so please go check that out. i appreciate the support, and i love you all, bye!!! <3