I am not every woman. I don’t choose to be anyone other than myself. I am a woman comfortable in my own skin; in this body. Slowly, I am blooming in my own garden. I’m in no rush to become someone else or to compete with anyone. My journey is mine alone, unique and uncharted. I don’t aspire to be you, or like your daughter, your sister, or your friends. I am satisfied with the woman I’ve been, but I am still learning about the woman I am becoming. Each day, I discover new facets of myself, unfolding like petals … Continue reading I am not every woman

I hate explaining myself. The nuances of my thoughts, my actions, my art—they’re like the notes of a symphony that can’t be translated into mere words. I don’t want to dissect how I draw or paint, how I perceive the world. These processes are intimate whispers of my soul, echoing through the canvas and the paper, not meant for dissection. What I truly love is when people ask how I feel, how my art lives within them. That connection, that shared experience—it’s pure and unfiltered. It’s less about the mechanics and more about the emotion, the resonance. When someone lives … Continue reading Don’t Ask Questions

Does Love end? Yes, and what remains is memory. When immersed in Love, in that very moment, we are granted the words to vow it eternal. And to feel it eternal. In those moments, we know because we feel, and we feel that we will love forever. This is because Love returns us to the dimensions of the Soul where the Soul exists, but time does not. Love inhabits only the present time in which, whole and freed from the commitment to calendars, we can embrace destinies. Love temporarily allows us to know ourselves as timeless, granting us the grace … Continue reading When Love Ends …

Every night, I allowed myself a moment of music that was just for me. This solitary pleasure, while seemingly barren, is anything but sterile when it reconciles our being with life. The music transports me to a realm where pain doesn’t cease to exist but shrinks, diminishes, and becomes calmer and deeper, like a stream that transforms into a lake. In these moments, I find a tranquil retreat from the chaos of the day. The melodies wrap around my soul, easing the jagged edges of my worries and smoothing the rough patches of my heart. Each note, each chord, brings … Continue reading In the Arms of Music

She speaks with a tenderness that cradles each word, as if she holds love itself within her mouth. This love, delicate and precious, is like a fruit ripening with every whispered syllable, or a daughter nurtured with every breath. Her words are a gentle caress, a promise of the love she carries, ready to be born from her lips, unaware of the night that surrounds her. For a woman who is truly loved, nightfall never comes. Her world is illuminated by the warmth of affection, a perpetual twilight where shadows cannot linger. In her presence, time stands still, and the … Continue reading Prose on Love and Nightfall

I cannot make you stay. I cannot make you love me. But in the quiet moments of solitude, I have found myself. I have fallen in love with this skin, this body that carries the weight of a thousand poems. Each day, I embrace this blackness, kissed by the sun every morning, and I am content with the way the Universe has crafted me. Flaws and all, I am perfect in its eyes. I stand tall, knowing that my worth is not defined by your presence or absence, but by the love I have for myself. In this journey of … Continue reading Self-Love

Once, you were made of the sky. Do you remember that? You were boundless, infinite, soaring above the constraints of the earth. Before they told you what you were supposed to be. Before they destroyed your elegant wings. They tricked you, chaining you to an idea. They built a prison from their expectations, branding you with labels, with pain. Yet, deep inside, the sky still whispers to you, reminding you of the freedom you once knew, the expanse you once embraced. In that memory lies your truth, untainted by the chains of others. Reclaim your wings, break free from their … Continue reading Little Bird

We often let precious encounters slip by, comforting ourselves with the thought that there will be a ‘when’ in the future. Yet, the truth is that time offers no such guarantees. It is a fickle, unpredictable entity, full of limited misfortunes. Instead of waiting for that elusive ‘when,’ turn it into today. Reach out to that old friend you haven’t seen in ages. Share a moment, rekindle the connection, and cherish the present.🙏🏾❤ ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading Often

May every soul find a love that warms the heart and brings solace to this chaotic world. Let there be moments of unexpected joy amidst the mundane routines, a person to anticipate and long for. Among the multitude, there is a singular name that stands out—a verse of unparalleled beauty, a melody never forgotten, a dance partner for every step. May we have someone to greet the morning with, and dream with as night falls. A hand to hold through trials, a shoulder to lean on in times of need, and an embrace that makes life worth living. Together, we … Continue reading Safe Port

When I declare, as I often do, that prose isn’t about anything, I mean it’s not about anything but the violence it holds. The violence of silence, the violence of suffering, the violence of turning away from another’s pain—each a form of silence in its own right. Rumi speaks of entering the rose garden and making peace with the thorns, and I am in that garden, striving to reconcile with the inherent violence of language—of the poem. I am trying, trying to articulate my own violence, my silence, my suffering. Each one encapsulates the other. When I say prose isn’t … Continue reading The Violence of Silence