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Ms. Jane Doe

beatrizesmer

In the quiet solitude of her solitary abode, Ms. Jane Doe writes. She writes to release the tempest raging within, to share the burden of her inner storm with a world that often seems distant. Yet, she struggles with the words, seeking the perfect way to convey the turmoil that resides in her heart. How can she use these words to touch another soul, to bridge the chasm between her inner chaos and the yearning for connection? Deep within Ms. Jane Doe, there resides a monster, a familiar presence she has long acknowledged. She knows the destructive power it holds, … Continue reading Ms. Jane Doe

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At 4 a.m.

beatrizesmer

The world is still and quiet, a canvas waiting for the strokes of inspiration. Two hours before dawn, two hours to craft a poem that defies the ordinary. I’ve penned countless verses before, only to discard them in pursuit of a new beginning, unburdened by the weight of expectations. This time, I seek to transcend clichés and break free from the chains of repetitive patterns. I yearn to unravel life’s mysteries, to astonish myself with the beauty of uncharted words. Is it futile to weave yet another poem about love? The first rays of the sun emerge, offering a mere … Continue reading At 4 a.m.

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Reveries …

beatrizesmer

I went through life stumbling in my daydreams, lost in the slow dance of time, craving simplicity, and shunning the weight of the world. I stumbled through each day, intoxicated by weariness and the need for rest. I let weariness become my companion, intertwining it with the fabric of my existence, blurring the lines between everyday life and despair. I found myself suffocating in the emptiness of voids, surrounded by people and things that only added to the weight on my shoulders. In the midst of my sadness, I sought solace in brief moments of sleep, repeating the same chapters … Continue reading Reveries …

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You are not a reflection of the people who can’t love you …

beatrizesmer

You are not a reflection of the people who can’t love you, for their inability to see your worth is a burden they carry, not a reflection of your own light. You are the sum of all generous people who love you, whose warmth and kindness have woven a tapestry of love around your soul. You are the laughter that echoes in the hearts of those who cherish you, the embrace that brings solace to weary spirits. In the mosaic of life, your essence is painted with the hues of compassion, kindness, and empathy. You are not defined by the … Continue reading You are not a reflection of the people who can’t love you …

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Sex & High-tech Era – Article II – 2024

beatrizesmer

In the age of high technology, where the digital realm intertwines with our most intimate desires, the essence of sex and love becomes a tapestry woven with complex threads of longing, disillusionment, and the search for genuine connection. Classical literature, with its poetic embrace of Eros, the Greek god of love, painted a lush landscape of eroticism and desire. Myth, magic, and fantasy converged to form an artistic expression of life’s most intimate aspects. Through this lens, the cruel, the ugly, and the charming were all unveiled in the delicate dance of words and imagery. Sex, when stripped of its … Continue reading Sex & High-tech Era – Article II – 2024

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Let me see your happiness …

beatrizesmer

Let me address your dreams, your passion, and your desires with the tender touch of success, so I can savor the sweet nectar of your happiness. In the garden of your aspirations, let me be the diligent gardener, nurturing the seeds of your ambitions and tending to the delicate blossoms of your hopes. I long to see the radiant glow of fulfillment light up your eyes, to witness the dance of joy that sweeps across your soul when your dreams take flight. Your happiness is a melody that resonates in the depths of my being, and I yearn to be … Continue reading Let me see your happiness …

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Waste

beatrizesmer

Wasted are the days where the skin beneath our clothes doesn’t get to touch people’s souls. There’s a profound longing in the unspoken yearning for connection, for the intimate dance of bare skin against the backdrop of shared vulnerability. In a world where barriers and boundaries often eclipse the raw beauty of human connection, we yearn for the simple yet profound act of baring our souls to one another. The touch of skin becomes a conduit for the unspoken language of empathy and understanding, a bridge that transcends the limitations of words. There’s a sacredness in the meeting of two … Continue reading Waste

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The mystery to those who plant themselves firmly in the soil of your heart

beatrizesmer

There’s a mystery to those who plant themselves firmly in the soil of your heart and refuse to leave. “Stay,” once a foreign language, becomes a dialect so familiar to the swirl of your eardrums. I’m not sure about this, but if you do decide to remain, make yourself comfortable in the warmth of the home inside of me. There’s a certain alchemy in the way you’ve taken root within the chambers of my soul, weaving your essence into the very fabric of my being. Your presence has become an indelible part of my landscape, intertwining with the roots of … Continue reading The mystery to those who plant themselves firmly in the soil of your heart

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To a little black bird in my chest …

beatrizesmer

I am writing for the little blackbird in my chest; she used to be a bluebird, with a throat made of honey, but now she smokes all my tar, and drinks all my wine. Once, she soared through the azure expanse of my soul, her song a symphony of sweetness, her wings aglow with the light of hope. Her melody wove through the chambers of my heart, a lullaby that brought solace to my weary spirit. But as the shadows lengthened and the world grew heavy, she turned to the bitter taste of tar, the suffocating embrace of smoke. Her … Continue reading To a little black bird in my chest …

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Where is your other you?

beatrizesmer

Where is your other you? In the wall? The furniture? The ceiling? I leaned over your face, sure of myself, as if I were a mirror, and sadly searched for you. But that, too, was to no avail, like everything else. In the stillness of the room, I sought the echo of your essence, the lingering imprint of your presence. I traced the contours of the walls, hoping to find the whispers of your soul woven into the very fabric of the space. Yet, all I found were silent witnesses, bearing no trace of your elusive spirit. I turned to … Continue reading Where is your other you?