Ela aprendeu cedo, talvez cedo demais, que a vida não espera aplausos. Que mesmo os instantes mais sublimes se despedem sem aceno. Foi então que decidiu: viveria como se tudo fosse uma despedida. Porque tudo é. A xícara de café pela manhã ganhou o peso de um ritual de adeus. O perfume de quem passa na calçada tornou-se memória antes mesmo de desaparecer. Cada olhar trocado, um relicário. Cada riso partilhado, um testamento deixado ao tempo. As pessoas achavam estranho. “Mas por que tanta solenidade num simples pôr do sol?” — ela sorria. Mal sabiam eles que todo pôr do … Continue reading Último Ato

I am the ink that flows from the pen, the words that dance upon the page, I am the architect of my own world, building castles in the sky. I am the poet, weaving emotions into verse, capturing the essence of life in every line, I am the silent witness to the world around me, drinking in the beauty and the pain. I am the lover, embracing all that is wild and free, fighting for love and for justice, I am the breath of life, the beating heart, a vessel of hope and resilience. I am the dreamer, reaching for … Continue reading What am I?

To many, poetry is a kaleidoscope of emotions and perceptions: beautiful, heartwarming, thought-provoking, mind-blowing, lovely, breathtaking. For some, it demands a pause, urging them to “take a step back and reflect for a minute.” But to me, poetry is something far more intimate and raw. It is the bleeding out of my soul, a torrent of feelings and thoughts spilling onto any surface willing to hold my words, even if just for a fleeting moment. Each poem is a fragment of my essence, a snapshot of my inner world laid bare. It is not crafted with the intention to impress … Continue reading Poetry

I move through this world like a feather trembling in the wind—delicate, easily undone, yet carrying its own quiet grace. I am no more than ink pressed into paper, a fleeting trace of existence, resisting the weight of its own shadow. And still, I know: strength is not born of force, but of gentleness. It lives in the lightest touch, in the subtle art of shifting, in the beauty of yielding and responding. The world’s textures have carved their roughness into me, gravel lodged deep within my being. Yet I am learning to welcome the creak of my mind’s hinges, … Continue reading Fragile

In her gentle words, I found a profound truth. It isn’t always the grand achievements or celebrated skills that define our worth. Sometimes, it’s the quiet resilience, the strength to keep moving forward when the world feels heavy and hope seems distant. Surviving, enduring, and continuing to find beauty in each day—that itself is a remarkable talent. Her affirmation was a reminder that my existence, my persistence, is a testament to an inner strength that often goes unnoticed. In every breath and every step, there is a silent victory, a quiet triumph over adversity. Survival is not just an act; … Continue reading I once confided in her that I wasn’t good at anything. She looked at me with eyes full of understanding and said, “Survival is a talent.”

Write letters to loved ones and hide them in library books. Savor the simple pleasure of eating mangos off your fingertips. Observe nature: a bee on lavender, a snail’s journey, a hummingbird’s flight. Smile at strangers; it brightens everyone’s day. Write lists for focus and direction. Learn new words from the dictionary. Stand firm in your truth; honesty is valued. Revisit childhood books and movies for nostalgia. Swing at the park to feel limitless. Nourish your body without guilt; food is life. Embrace joy and reject sadness; you are irreplaceable. Life is a journey, and you are its guide. Choose … Continue reading When sadness embraces you, remember gentle steps to guide your heart back to light:

I was born shattered, missing pieces that would make me whole. I kept getting cuts from the cracks in my soul, and my heart bore scars with the patterns of its missing edges. Every time I tried to move forward, I unintentionally hurt myself. Until the day I helped mend a broken heart. I tore out a piece of my shattered heart and used it to seal their broken parts. In filling the void in someone else’s heart, I felt somehow complete. I made a vow that I would always place a shard of myself in fixing someone’s broken pieces. … Continue reading Missing

Within the chambers of my soul, a symphony of voices echoes through the corridors of my being. Some speak in whispers of love, while others roar with anger. Some remain in silent contemplation, while bitterness lingers in the shadows. Wisdom and voiceless echoes also dwell within me, creating a cacophony of existence. It’s a struggle, an ongoing battle where each moment becomes a conquest for a different persona, claiming dominion over my thoughts and actions. In this mosaic of personas, I often find myself embodying them all, becoming a kaleidoscope of identities. It’s in those moments that I am closest … Continue reading There are people living inside of me

When I love, I surrender my heart completely, devouring it with a fervor that consumes my very being. In the same breath, I find myself entangled in the paradox of emotions, where love and hate intertwine, and adoration and disdain coexist within the chambers of my soul. In the depths of my love, I am consumed by a passion that knows no bounds, a fire that burns with an intensity that cannot be quenched. Yet, within this inferno, there lies a tempest of conflicting emotions, where love and hate dance a delicate waltz, and adoration and disdain share the same … Continue reading Duality

I was born from illusion, where reality and fantasy merge in an endless ebb and flow. I am woven by history, a believer in the narratives that have shaped my existence. I lose myself in books, seeking solace in boundless worlds. Each chapter is a gift of new beginnings, yet it carries the weight of farewells and regrets. I am the child of nostalgia, where memories intertwine with emotions that gently pull at the strings of my heart. I know the endless waits, the echoes of longing that wander through the corridors of the soul. Amid this illusion, I walk … Continue reading My Foolish Heart (translated version)