Tag: feelings

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Intrinsic Poetry

beatrizesmer

In the dawn, when the world is still wrapped in the gentle embrace of sleep, there exists a being whose very essence is poetry. This poetry is not confined to the pages of a book or the verses of a song; it is etched into the very fabric of their existence. It begins with the strength of their biceps, where each sinew and muscle tell a story of resilience and grace. The distance between their elbow and wrist is a journey, a path lined with the whispers of dreams and the echoes of past triumphs. Even their shoe size, a … Continue reading Intrinsic Poetry

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The Symphony of Existence

beatrizesmer

I hold the dawn in my palms, its gentle warmth a constant in the ebb and flow of life, much like the love I feel for my family and friends. It’s a bond woven from shared laughter and silent nods, a connection that needs no words, only presence. The blues of the sky are my emotions laid bare; cerulean is my laughter under the sun, indigo my deep twilight musings. Each shade is a verse in the story of my life, a narrative told in colors. Standing naked under the sun, I shed the world’s layers, baring my soul to … Continue reading The Symphony of Existence

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The Lost White Box

beatrizesmer

In the quiet solitude of the night, I stumbled upon a discovery, hidden in the recesses of my closet. A lost white box, unassuming in its appearance, yet brimming with fragments of my existence. It was as if I had unearthed a time capsule, a treasure trove of moments frozen in time. The box cradled clippings of me, snippets of my past, each one a thread woven into the tapestry of my life. They were echoes of laughter, whispers of tears, and silent screams, all encapsulated within this humble container. A knot in the stomach, a visceral reminder of the … Continue reading The Lost White Box

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The Many Faces of Being

beatrizesmer

Between heartbeats, I exist. Not as a fixed entity, but as a chameleon of existence. I am always as you see me—fluid, mutable, and unyielding. I can be something or everything. When dawn tiptoes across the sky, I am the dew-kissed petal, fragile and hopeful. Yet, when the moon hangs heavy, I become the vastness of the cosmos, stitching constellations into stories. I can be the sun shining or the thunder roaring. In the golden hours, I am the sun’s warm embrace, casting shadows that dance upon the earth. But when tempests gather, I transform into the electric fury of … Continue reading The Many Faces of Being

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The Language of Feeling

beatrizesmer

In the mess of my heart, where words often fail to reach, I find a language unspoken, a dialect of emotions, raw and pure. It is not bound by the shackles of syntax, nor does it dance to the tunes of grammar. It is a language of feeling, of understanding, of empathy. “I am not a scholar of words,” I confess, “I am not that smart.” Yet, in my simplicity, I possess a wisdom that eludes many. I navigate the world not by the compass of intellect, but by the beacon of emotion. I read not the words that dance … Continue reading The Language of Feeling

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The Beautiful Paradox

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There exists a thread, both robust and delicate, weaving its way through the intricate design of life. This thread, a paradox in its own right, is the embodiment of a strong spirit and a gentle heart. A strong spirit, like a towering oak, stands resolute against the tempests of life. It is the flame that flickers persistently, refusing to be extinguished by the gusts of hardship. It is the mountain peak that remains unyielding, steadfastly reaching for the heavens, undeterred by the harshest winters. The spirit, fortified by trials and tribulations, becomes a beacon of hope, illuminating the path for … Continue reading The Beautiful Paradox

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The Architecture of Emotions

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In the vast expanse of our being, feelings find their homes, carving out spaces within us, as my mother once wisely noted. Each emotion, a tenant, occupies a unique room, shaping our internal architecture with its distinct presence. Sadness, a solitary figure, dwells in the distant quarters of our heart, creating a chasm between us and the rest. It places others on the far side of the house, their laughter and joy muffled by the thick walls of melancholy. Fear, a skittish creature, always seeks refuge under the table, its trembling form hidden from view. It cowers in the shadows, … Continue reading The Architecture of Emotions

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Forgiveness and a Peaceful Heart

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How do I forgive my father? Perhaps it happens in the quiet solitude of a dream. Do I forgive him for the times he was absent, too often, or even forever, when I was just a child? Maybe it’s for the times his anger took me by surprise, or for the unsettling calm when anger was nowhere to be found. Do I forgive him for choosing to marry, or not to marry my mother? Or for deciding to sever their union, or for letting it persist in its imperfect state? And should I absolve him for his extremes of affection … Continue reading Forgiveness and a Peaceful Heart

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A Love from Afar

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I am a love that hails from distant lands, where the seeds of nostalgia are sown and bloom in the heart’s fertile soil. I am a love that is both unsteady and inconsolable, a tempest of emotions, clothed in the dual attire of anxiety and joy. I am a paradox, a love that is seldom yet common, a love that is a dreamer yet grounded in truth. I am the sun, radiant and warm, and the palm, steadfast and enduring. I am a love that is always reliable, always legitimate, a beacon of constancy in the ever-changing tides of life. … Continue reading A Love from Afar

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Sacred Whispers: The Cycle of Desire

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In the sacred silence of our union, I become an acolyte of your essence, flesh of your flesh, in a rite as ancient as time itself. Let this communion be our sacrament, where I partake of you wholly, a feast not of the body but of the spirit that dances within. Your lips, trembling with the tender rhythm of life, move in perfect harmony with the pulsations of your heart—a heart that beats to the drum of your soul’s deepest yearnings. Together, we are both vessel and void, our bodies whispering the ancient liturgy of longing, speaking the language of … Continue reading Sacred Whispers: The Cycle of Desire