Tag: faith

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Vulnerability

beatrizesmer

It is a terrifying notion, to bare your soul to another, to stand before them in all your vulnerability. To shed the layers of protection and reveal the marks that tell the stories of your life. The stretch marks, birth marks, and scars that map out the journey of your existence. Each one a testament to the battles you’ve fought, the pains you’ve endured, and the triumphs you’ve celebrated. In that moment of exposure, you will feel the heat of a thousand suns, your cheeks flushed with a kaleidoscope of emotions. You will stand before them, a rose shedding its … Continue reading Vulnerability

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May you never, ever give up!

beatrizesmer

May you feel the warmth of your own beauty today, a radiance that shines from within and lights up the world around you. May you stand strong, brave, and capable, ready to embrace the person you’ve always dreamed of becoming. May your goals be within reach, your bad habits conquerable, your talents usable, and your heart open to learning and growth. May you face negativity with resilience, refusing to let it take root within you. Be fierce in your pursuit of happiness and maintain composure when things don’t go your way. Let kindness and grace flow from you effortlessly, even … Continue reading May you never, ever give up!

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Worried eyes …

beatrizesmer

I look with worried eyes at the world around me, where social vines twist and tangle, where flashing lights blind us to the lack of rights. Human compassion seems to be in short supply, lost in the chaos and noise of hate and division. Hate feeds off hate, a vicious cycle that threatens to consume us all. But if hate can thrive, then love should come just as easily, if only we let it. Windows bashed in, faces sprayed with mace, lives choked out of existence, all in the name of eliminating race. The lines between classes have blurred, and … Continue reading Worried eyes …

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Ms. Jane Doe

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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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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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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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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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My home …

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My home is a shrine to my womanliness, a sanctuary where my essence is woven into every corner and crevice. It is a tapestry of textures, art, books, and photographs, a symphony of patterns that dance together to please my senses and reflect the depths of my being. Just as my home is an extension of my desires, a manifestation of my eclectic mix of wants, needs, and passions, my soul is a kaleidoscope of emotions, joys, and unresolved pain. Each desire stands as a testament to my journey, telling its own compelling story and propelling me toward love and … Continue reading My home …

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I lost myself …

beatrizesmer

I lost myself between the heavy lines of traffic and the song playing on the radio. The rain triggered me to pull away from myself and everything else around. In the middle of the stoplight and the go signal, where I am challenged to go deeper into something else. In the meadows of what ifs and what is. In the clear blue skies where the sunlight burns the ends of my soul. At the gate of holiness where faith and truth lie clear. At the books where I am taught to imagine and that everything, I can think of is … Continue reading I lost myself …

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Embrace the strength of your own warmth

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Remember how your mother kept her bones warm on nights when your father was far away. She wrapped herself in the comfort of her own strength, refusing to let the chill of loneliness seep into her bones. Do not love a man who keeps you clinging to the pillow for too many nights, yearning for his presence to fill the void in your heart. Stay away from men who peel the skin of other women, forcing you to wear their scars as your own. Remember how your mother struggled to find her skin in the pile, piecing herself back together … Continue reading Embrace the strength of your own warmth