If the words are memories of love, so I write to remind the love in me. Because poetry is an affection on the other side, a kindness saved in lover’s eyes. And if it is not the poet the translator of silences and poetry a collection of possibilities, who am I? I am a woman living in each of my lines, even if they never find me; and reveal me by all my words, even if every one of them I cannot be revealed; because I live in a kingdom of my knowledge it lends itself to confess what it … Continue reading Poetry

When did you start clothing yourself in the false opinions of others, and leaving the clothes you like at home? When did you start obsessing about the smiles on other peoples faces while neglecting the one on your own? Why do you sleep with your demons every night and wonder why tranquility and peace eludes you? What happened to the beautiful queen that held her crown high when days were dark? I hope you find the answers, and find yourself again…❤ Art: Carmen Miranda II Continue reading Clothing

In my youth, the question of self-love felt foreign, an unfamiliar concept echoing within me. As time passed, I slowly unraveled its meaning—not as vanity, but as a profound companionship with myself. This journey was about understanding, embracing, and cultivating an unwavering bond with the person I would always be with—me. Through life’s uncertainties, I learned to listen to my inner voice, the quiet yet steadfast guide that whispers wisdom in moments of doubt. To love oneself is to stand tall, to recognize who truly values you, and to never allow others to diminish your worth. It is the foundation … Continue reading Within me …

Sometimes, you think you know what you can give someone. You think that your words will have this healing power, that you will be able to give them what they’ve looked for years. You can list all the ways you’d touch them, caress them, savour them in a hurried breath. You know exactly what you would do to make them happy, because that’s all you really want to do, make them happy. But sometimes, probing words and truthful sentences hurt more than they heal. Sometimes, exposing their wounds to the world and offering to do the stitches for them is … Continue reading Just Happy

It’s about the insignificance of being, the humility of existence. It’s about the mesmerizing sight of train tracks, shimmering like molten gold under the midday sun, stretching into the horizon, leading you on a journey to an unknown destination, perhaps home. It’s about the fluidity of self, the blurring of physical boundaries, the softening of facial features, the fading of smiles. It’s about the void left behind, a human-shaped absence, a lingering laughter echoing against the walls, an unoccupied chair in the corner, a silent testament to your presence. It’s about dreams where daylight is a forgotten concept, about closing … Continue reading Ephemeral Echoes

In the grand theater of life, two characters often take the stage – the ‘Passionate’ and the ‘Fanatic’. They may seem similar, but they are as different as day and night. The ‘Passionate’ is a vibrant soul, full of eagerness and earnestness. They are like a river, flowing freely, open to the twists and turns of life. Their passion is a flame that illuminates their path and the paths of others. They welcome questions, for they see them as opportunities to learn, to grow, to ignite sparks of understanding in the darkness of ignorance. On the other hand, the ‘Fanatic’ … Continue reading Passion vs. Fanaticism

I am the myriad threads of emotion and being. On some days, I am the gentle caress of a cool morning’s mist, enveloping the world in a tender embrace, infusing every leaf and petal with the energy of love. Yet, on others, I transform into a tempestuous rainstorm, my tears cascading down in torrents, flooding the earth with the intensity of my presence. There are moments when I am the sudden flash of lightning, a brilliant streak across the sky, electrified and pulsating with a devotion so profound it leaves me trembling. And then, I become the roar of thunder, … Continue reading Eternal Light: A Symphony of Emotions

An apology as hope. Hope, an excuse to postpone. Tomorrow, a promise—the fullest version of ourselves waiting. Tomorrow, I act, realize, become. Tomorrow, I will be healthier, more tolerant, more authentic. Tomorrow, I will talk to the boss, call my parents. Tomorrow will be less distant, less crowded—no anxiety, no fear, no sadness. Tomorrow, that strange heaviness in my chest will ease. Tomorrow, I will leap—insist, persist, heal, apologize. Tomorrow will be fairer, less naive, more serene, less lonely. Tomorrow, I will put an end to my weary ellipses. Tomorrow, the indentation in my story will prove my courage was … Continue reading Tomorrow as an excuse

I don’t know for sure when I started killing myself a little bit or enlivening myself in what I write. I confuse confessions with dreams, these with truths and those with lies. I dissolve in the subtle territory of my affirmations. I allow myself the denials I take advantage of. For before a period, I seek to know who I am.For after it, I don’t know myself…❤ ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading I don’t know …