Tell me when it gets better, whisper it softly in my ear like a promise of tomorrow’s sunrise. Ask me about the dreamer that died, the one who dared to chase after the stars and got lost in the vast expanse of the universe. Give me a reason to not get comfortable in this skin, to keep pushing against the boundaries that confine me.

Show me the silver lining, even if it’s just a faint glimmer in the darkest of nights. Remind me about the goodness in people, the kindness that still lingers in the world despite all the darkness. The dreamer once saw it so clearly, a beacon of hope in a sea of despair. Remind me of that.

Remind me of the strength she had, the courage that burned bright within her like a flame refusing to be extinguished. Make me believe that this too shall pass, that the storm will eventually give way to calm seas. Let me live, let me breathe, let me be free from the shackles of doubt and fear.

And tell me, oh tell me, that the poet is not dead. That the words still flow like a river of emotions, carrying with them the power to heal and inspire. Let me believe in the magic of language, in the beauty of expression. Let me believe in the dreamer, in the poet, in the hope that springs eternal.

© Beatriz Esmer