"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you" -Maya Angelou
All work written by Guadalupe Monserrat
pages:
By: Guadalupe Monserrat
Written February 2021
Summary: Lucy’s life is a journey through desire, betrayal, and self-discovery. From youthful experimentation and intense relationships to enduring abuse and heartbreak, she struggles to find freedom, trust, and a sense of herself. Amid chaos and isolation, she fights to reclaim her voice and agency.
Witchingly familiar – a small glance towards
You; lick of lips, sway of hips, it’s so inviting,
But you keep me at a distance, and I am
Such a lover girl, so all I do is think of you
Starve myself until I get to eat you up, just
a bit from the neck down, as far a taste as
It’ll take to bring you to the edge, and over
If you wish
No longer do I want to be used and discarded;
Nor do I desire to be the one who has chaotic,
Cosmic catastrophes as a punishment for others’
Transgressions. I understand that I am an empath,
And that my pure heart makes me willing to forgive
The sins of others – but that doesn’t mean I should be
Forced to bear their burden, living out their sentences
in Tartarus, while the sinners themselves get to feast
On the hearts of my lovers. Its tragic that to fight the
Beasts themselves, I must become one – gnarled teeth
And all. But, I, a warrior carved from Athena’s hands
Herself, I am capable of conquest beyond what’s been
Done
To
Me.
You haunt me;
posses me;
this corpse, a
Rag doll
Tossed around
Hoping for you
To just let me
play.
We waltz around each other.
Hand in hand; chest to chest.
So close, each breath synchronized.
Yet
True intimacy avoids us, even
In close proximity, limited range
Dance floors, it skirts around us.
Where did it go?
Hide, run to? See
We
Used to be conductors holding
The orchestra together, keeping
Time with every drop of the kick
Drum.
Now all thats left is kicks
Straight into our ego. And who
Am I to want to let this go? To
Just release that which causes
Any type of discomfort?
I want to Be
drunk in lust, not bound by
Endless commitment. Yet I said
My vows, and so did you and truth
Be told, I don’t even think you like
Me anymore; just keeping rhythm till
The song
Is
Over.
Always you, but never the time.
16 June 2021
i want to call her and tell her how much
she means to me. but she’s in love and i,
i don’t have much to offer. so, i’ll write it
instead; about the way my eyes
grew legs trying to follow her around. or
about the way my restraint went on vacation,
compelling the temptation to fuck her against
the wall, until my hands turned to ashes
in a futile attempt to avoid her flesh -
crematorium where bodies of her lovers
go to die of desire. like fire, she both consumes
and ignites - regardless of the outcome.
16 December 2021
The pressure is all together too much.
They look at me, and see the possibility
of all their mistakes rectified - and I
am left with no option but to fail
under duress. Gun to my head.
Do they even care about who I am?
What I feel? The weight of my skin on my
soul? Or is my value left to be determined
by my skills and assets? And what am I without
either? Without expectations and prescriptions.
Am I at all?
Truthfully, I want to make love to you.
And if you knew me, you’d want to make
love to me too. Always the possibility of
tender skin, tangled hands and flesh
unbounded. The unfamiliar is intriguing.
A question mark along your hips,
A kiss to bring
your eyes back behind your lids.
Just a small moment. Where everything
is you.
obsidian crag! toss me anew
into the jagged mountain
range of your love. heat spewed
magma formed forever into
a reminder of what it once was.
would that be possible for you and me?
to crystallize the possibility of us
into darkened, serrated, minerals
of what we could have been?
24 June 2022