When a man tells you he’s “not sure” about the relationship, it’s already over. He’s either working on someone new or too much of a coward to truly end things. A man who loves a woman will move mountains for her. Trust me, if he’s not fighting for you, he’s not the one. Pay attention to the stories he tells you. If he mentions a nice restaurant or a show, he didn’t go with a buddy or alone. And yes, most men look at porn. Frequently. Your tears should be his Kryptonite; if he doesn’t care when you cry, he’s … Continue reading Hard truths from the mouths of men…

Don’t ever let anyone tell you what you can and can’t do. This life? This shit is hard. And people will spit in your face. People will break your heart. People will laugh at your pain. Some days will hurt you to your very core. It will happen, but don’t ever fucking give up on being yourself. In the face of adversity, remember that your strength lies in your authenticity. The world may try to mold you, to break you, but your true power comes from staying true to who you are. Embrace your uniqueness, your quirks, and your passions. … Continue reading Darling,

Every night, as we lay our heads down to rest, we step into the unknown without any assurance of what the next morning holds. Yet, with unwavering faith, we set our alarms to wake up to a new day. This is hope—an enduring whisper within us, urging us to keep moving forward. Hope is that quiet voice inside, gently reminding us that there is always a reason to rise, to face whatever comes, and to believe in the promise of tomorrow. It is the courage to continue, to find light even in the darkest of nights. 🙏🏾❤️ ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading Hope

“A arte sempre foi isto – interrogação pura, questão retórica sem a retórica – embora se diga que aparece pela realidade social.” Art, in its purest form, has always been an open-ended question, a rhetorical query stripped of its rhetorical clothing. It exists not merely as a reflection of social reality, but as a canvas for the deepest musings of the human soul. Like the works of Beckett, it delves into the existential, the profound, the spaces where certainty wavers and ambiguity reigns. In the realm of art, there are no clear answers, no tidy conclusions. Each piece is a … Continue reading Beckett it! ♥

Allow sadness to visit. Let it enter your heart and mind, its presence a temporary guest in your soul. Embrace its somber whispers and let it teach you the lessons only it can impart. Feel its weight, acknowledge its shadows, and honor the emotions it stirs within you. But never allow sadness to stay. It is a transient teacher, meant to pass through your life, not to linger indefinitely. Once you have absorbed everything it had to say, and once it has imparted the wisdom you needed to learn, gently show it the door. Then, leave the door open for … Continue reading Hello Sadness

Aprendi sem dicionário que Saudade não tem tradução. ❤️ É uma palavra que se sente, um sentimento que transcende qualquer definição. Saudade é a presença da ausência, o eco de vozes que já se foram, o perfume de momentos guardados no coração. É a melodia silenciosa de um amor distante, a memória vívida de um sorriso, a dor doce de uma despedida. Saudade é uma poesia sem rima, uma canção sem som, uma lembrança que teima em ficar. É a beleza melancólica de saber que, mesmo longe, o que amamos vive em nós. É o fio invisível que nos conecta … Continue reading Saudade

In an attempt to fit a thousand lives into my own, I’ve disappeared from home. I’m neglecting my ‘here’ to escape into what I know lies beyond this, all of this. I disappear from others to reappear for myself. I can only hope that the people I love will stay with me, by me, beside me. When I think about time, my chest constricts. I love so many people in so many parts of the world, and it feels strange distributing myself like that. What they never tell you when you’re growing up is that you can never start with … Continue reading Thousand Lives

I am not a poet; I am a pretender, a woman having an affair with words. Each phrase is a clandestine lover, whispering secrets against the sound of my heartbeat. I weave these words together, a tapestry spun from my soul’s depths, blending emotion and thought into a delicate dance of language. As I write, I feel my emotions grow wings, fluttering from the page into the ether, each syllable a breath of life. This affair with words is more than mere pretense; it is a consuming passion that transcends the boundaries of reality. With every line, I lay bare … Continue reading Pretender

Can I lay down in the pages of your poetry book and you cover me with your words? Let your verses be the blanket that shields me from the world’s harshness, wrapping me in the warmth of your metaphors and the comfort of your prose. King, would you grant me the freedom to roam the beauty of your mind, to wander through the landscapes of your imagination? I yearn to learn how to write like you, to capture the essence of life in the delicate dance of words. Can I be your metaphors, the vivid imagery that paints your soul’s … Continue reading Poet

This morning I woke up to the scent of fresh rain on the earth. It was a fragrance that carried promises of renewal, seeping through my open windows to the autumn that awaited me outside. I’ve taken up running without music, allowing myself to be present in the rhythm of my own breath and the symphony of birdsong that encircles me. Each footfall connects me to the living world, grounding me in its vibrancy. My heart, once heavy, feels lighter these days. My arms and legs ache with the sweet soreness of exertion when I wake, a reminder of the … Continue reading Hartsdale, November 03, 2016.