I have witnessed the dance of darkness and light, the interplay of hope and despair. I have seen the face of humanity, etched with the lines of both cruelty and kindness. I have seen the monstrous acts that one human can inflict upon another, the injustices that make the soul shudder, and the heart weep. I have seen the children, innocent and pure, caught in the crossfire of adult wars, their laughter silenced, their smiles faded. I have seen their small bodies, once full of life and joy, now lifeless and cold. And I have wondered, why? Why does the … Continue reading Why?

I do not intend to tell you about my mental struggles. You will have in my hands my simplicity and my lightness, which may not be entirely true, but were created with great affection so as not to frighten people like you. I will not dwell on the complexity of my thoughts, my duality or my doubts about any feeling in the world. I’ll leave you with the best part because I know you deserve it. I keep for myself the crises of identity and the desire to disappear. I will not lecture you about my frailties and my insecurities. … Continue reading Secret

Tell me, what country we are fromwhen we love like that—like rivers that refuse to end,like stars that never askif the sky will hold them back? Tell me, where does passion restwhen the world forgets its name?Do we belong to the hush of dawn,or to the aching streets of rain? Tell me, love—if borders fade,is there a place for hearts like ours?Or do we drift, like exiled dreams,too fierce, too wild, too far? 😔 ©️ Beatriz Esmer Continue reading Tell me

Let’s run off some place, where mangos grow. let’s take off and lay under stars, high off of each other’s sweet scent… let’s promise to kiss like young lovers for 40 years… I’ll memorize every mole to every pour on your chocolate-made skin, and you’ll hold me like I could blow away with the wind… Tell me secrets and anecdotes, make me laugh and grin, and cry with promises of forever… Let’s never forget why we ran off, let’s never forget to remember… Open for me every dawn like the earth’s morning glories …and I’ll open for you at dusk, … Continue reading Minas Gerais

A seed is truth yet to reveal its color, the future still unavenged, the generous promise of tomorrow—the prosperous silence that accomplishes without action. It feeds on itself and reaches for the sky. And I am hunger itself, the will that demands fulfillment in the garden where I longed to be reborn. Failing to draw you toward me made you all the more irresistible. For you are the quest, and I am the encounter. I am the wind, you are the earth. But I am also a seed, and I know nothing of tomorrow. You seek from me a sign, … Continue reading Seed

Who has whispered such untruths into your ear? Who dared to say your skin was anything less than beautiful? Look upon the earth, rich and teeming with life, and see yourself reflected in its depth. You are the color of the fertile ground from which all flowers spring forth. In the deep, rich soil, the seeds find their strength, and blossoms unfurl in a riot of color. Your skin is the canvas of continents, the shade of soil that cradles roots and nourishes beginnings. It is the hue of strength, the tint of resilience, the shade of endless possibilities. Like … Continue reading My dear,

We want to sell the truth that we build. We want to sell the image that we mold from ourselves. We want to sell what buys us. May they accept us for what we are without falsehood, they love us for we can love ourselves. May we reverse the order by condemning ourselves to surfaces. In our depthest, we ignore the convenience of the fears. We feel fragile, angry, dependent, needy — absent from us — leads us to convene Our anxieties, compulsions and other distractions not to deal with the our pains and monsters that we hold quiet, so … Continue reading How blind we are…

Today, I am 100 years old, my heart dances to the rhythm of a tambourine, vibrant and resonant. “Give me a kiss, my love,” I whisper, for today is not just another day—it’s a testament to a life richly lived. Stepping onto the asphalt, I feel the pulse of the city, the heartbeat of the world beneath my feet. Around us, the fools may frolic, their laughter mingling with the symphony of existence. The red traffic light, like a vigilant sentinel, halts the march of time, if only for a moment. In my pocket, a few cents jingle—the price of … Continue reading 100 years old

Every journalist who is not too naive or too self-absorbed to recognize reality understands the ethical dilemmas of their profession. Journalism, at its worst, can resemble a confidence game—exploiting people’s vanity, ignorance, or loneliness, gaining their trust only to betray them without remorse. Given the manipulation and deceptive tactics some colleagues employ to mislead the uneducated, I find it difficult to take pride in my profession. I feel deeply disappointed. However, I still hold onto the belief that if we truly wish to change the world, journalism remains one of the most immediate and powerful tools for short-term impact. April … Continue reading Journalist ‘s Day

I am my mother’s daughter. My heart will sink and soarthe same speed at which hers did.My voice shall tremble withthe same violence as I speak of loss.My arms shall cradle her thesame way she cradled me beforeI ever knew of fear or danger. Her blood shall always flowthrough my grateful veins…❤ Continue reading My mother