She navigated the depths of her own forgotten truths, those that her heart once inspired like perfumes in days gone by. She sought the salvation of others while losing herself in her own labyrinth. Her hands, always ready to dry others’ tears with sweet words, couldn’t contain the sea of sadness that drowned her. In her stories, she got lost, weaving plots where she saved heroes but saw herself as the villain. She became a poet, adorning herself with illusions, unable to distinguish the carnivals of her fantasies from the white days of reality. The false narratives of the past … Continue reading Eternal Poetry

With the magic of rivers in her chest, she wrote to unburden her pain, to sustain it in hope. She knew that anguish could not be killed, for it carried signs that save us and grant us an ontological flight. Enchanted by words, she distinguished between the soft and the hard ones, using them to empty her incendiary soul and create beauties. Her favorite pastime was to feel. In a world where people prefer to buy rather than feel and like, she drenched herself in feeling. She plowed the past, appeased ghosts, and faced subterranean mischiefs. Her fantasies protected her … Continue reading The Alchemy the Words and Feelings

Gosto de quem oferece oportunidades como quem abre janelas para o sol entrar. De quem cede o lugar, respeitando o tempo e o espaço do outro, como uma dança harmoniosa entre almas. Gosto de quem chega com a suavidade de uma brisa e parte com a promessa de um retorno, sabendo que a vida é feita de encontros e despedidas. Admiro aqueles que conhecem seus limites, mas nunca deixam de acreditar na magia da vida. Pessoas que me ensinam com humildade, que me permitem aprender sem arrogância. Gosto de quem se revela sem medo, enfrentando as vicissitudes da vida com … Continue reading A Beleza das Pequenas Coisas

Cup your hands around the emptiness, feeling its weight and texture. Let it seep into your being, becoming a part of you. Embrace the void, fall into it with grace, and let it shape you like clay in the hands of an artist. Light candles to guide your way, lanterns to illuminate your path, matches and campfires to warm your soul. Follow the light, let it fill you, until you are brimming with its brilliance. Let the darkness within you collapse, giving birth to something new and radiant. Growing up is a journey of acceptance, of finding comfort in the … Continue reading Embracing the Void

I see futures in the quiet moments, in the spaces between words, where truth often hides. In the laughter that follows tears, in the resilience that follows pain, I see the paths you might take. Each choice, each hesitation, each bold step forward, they all weave together the tapestry of what could be. I see futures in the way you dream, in the hopes you dare to voice, and in the fears you keep hidden. The future is not a single destination but a myriad of possibilities, each shaped by your actions and your heart’s desires. In the stillness of … Continue reading Seeing Futures

Sometimes, I find myself trying to lift up the corner of my skin like a bed sheet, revealing the tangled knots, the deep-seated hurt, and the intricate histories that lie beneath. I expose these raw, vulnerable parts of myself, hoping for understanding, for connection. Yet, more often than not, my revelations are met with dismissal, as if my pain and my past are inconsequential. I strive so hard to temper my expectations, to shield myself from the inevitable letdowns that come from relying on others. But despite my best efforts, disappointment finds its way into my heart. People fall short … Continue reading The Fragility of Expectations

I once penned poetry tantamount to arias and flowed like symphonies. The emotions were palpable, sometimes almost overwhelmingly so; even my prose was prolific and profound. No matter what I wrote, there was always an abundance. If I felt sad, the beauty of a delicate teardrop could not eclipse the outpouring of the cavalcade of sighing sorrows. Happiness never was solely that. Joy seeped and soaked into every stanza as if I had drizzled my tongue with honey while the harvest bees droned smartly from vivid metaphor on through thick and throaty alliteration, punctuated by bouts of often sexy sliding … Continue reading The Ebb and Flow of Words

Love consumed my peace and my war. It devoured my day and night, my winter and my summer. It swallowed my silence, my headache, and even my fear of death. Love became an insatiable force, leaving nothing untouched, nothing unclaimed. It was both my torment and my solace, my chaos and my calm. In its wake, I found myself stripped bare, yet strangely whole, as if love had not just taken, but also given me a new essence, a new existence. As I wandered through the remnants of my former self, I discovered that love had not merely consumed, but … Continue reading Love’s Consuming Embrace

I look out the window with an affectionate gaze, contemplating the legitimate resource of love. I surrender, believing in this total commitment that brings benefits and satisfies my sentimental cravings. Love is worth any cloudy Monday, disastrous Tuesday, wordless Wednesday, rose-less Thursday, dreadful Friday. And on Saturday, we end up meeting at the corner bar to have a few drinks and catch up on all the stories that make love worthwhile. Love is worth even what’s not in the contract. It’s worth the effort of an undeserved hug, the tear of contentment, the slips of pure joy. The red, embarrassed … Continue reading What a wonderful thing called Love!

They wanted my eyes, but they wanted me to turn a blind eye; they craved the sparkle in my gaze, yet feared the truths I might see. They desired my lips, but not the thick tongue with political discussions slipping off of it; they longed for the shape of my smile, but not the weight of my words. They wanted my skinny fingers, delicate and nimble, but they did not want the words that fell out of my pen; they admired the grace of my hands, but not the power of my thoughts. They wanted my body, the vessel that … Continue reading My Being