Placebo

In the search for healing, we are often faced with difficult choices. Do we seek out the truth, even if it is bitter and hard to swallow? Or do we opt for the placebo, something that may offer temporary relief but ultimately lacks true healing power? Do we turn to alternative therapies, or do we embrace the precision of surgical intervention? And what about love? Do we celebrate it with ice water, a cool and refreshing drink, or do we indulge in the warmth of Paraguayan whiskey, a bold and intense choice? Do we use excess as a means of … Continue reading Placebo

Let us cast aside the yoke of servitude

In the fleeting hours, where moments slip like sand through grasping fingers, it is time to break free from the shackles of servitude to the relentless march of time. Let us abandon the role of martyred slaves and instead embrace the intoxicating liberation that beckons us. Be ceaselessly drunk, not on the passing minutes and hours, but on the heady elixirs that stir the soul. Whether it be the crimson nectar of wine, its velvety depths swirling with stories untold, or the enchanting verses of poetry that dance upon the mind like whispers of the wind. Or perhaps, let us … Continue reading Let us cast aside the yoke of servitude

My path, my destination …

I walk the path of survivors. It’s a path etched with the echoes of resilience, a journey I’ve known since my first breath, and one that intertwines with the rhythm of my beating heart. For much of this odyssey, I was veiled in darkness, stumbling through the unknown, grappling with the unseen. Each step was a gamble, a dance with uncertainty, and often I faltered, straying from the path I sought to tread. Obstacles loomed like giants, casting shadows that threatened to engulf me, and it seemed as though the very fabric of the world conspired against my every move. … Continue reading My path, my destination …

Rain washing me away

There’s a spark beginning to burn, a flame flickering to life in the depths of my soul. It ignites feelings in my heart, a warmth that spreads and envelops me in its comforting embrace. It rushes through me like claps of thunder, echoing in the chambers of my being, shaking me to my very core. I can feel the rain as it falls, a gentle patter at first, then turning into a torrent, a deluge of emotions washing over me. It cleanses me, washing away my grief, my pain, my sorrow. It purifies my spirit, leaving behind a clean slate, … Continue reading Rain washing me away

Made of sugar

In a world made of sugars, she longed for the taste of other poisons, believing that this oath would lead her to find happiness, a way to escape. Her desire was to evoke the most delicate blue in her eyes, to rediscover innocence in the smartest way, with no time for want. She immersed herself in a single word, one that could encompass all letters and sounds, to fill the void that demanded tears, yearning, and hope. This word, a universe in itself, held the power to explain everything that eluded her, encompassing her entirely. She crafted worlds, seeking other … Continue reading Made of sugar

Reflections about death …

A death in the family, a stark reminder of the fragility of life, the ticking of time it got me thinking, what if it were my last few days what would really matter to me, what would I hold dear? Is it the relationships, the bonds that tie us together or the peace of mind, the solace of a quiet soul, is it achieving something great, leaving a mark or simply doing something good, spreading love and kindness? Is it living the life I always wanted, free and wild or going after my dreams, chasing them with fervor is it … Continue reading Reflections about death …

I arrived to nurture your seeds …

Love, a force that transcends time and circumstance, I arrived to nurture your seeds that tremble in the face of winter’s chill. The anxiety of what lies ahead is not born from the uncertainty of uncharted paths that may lead to missteps, but rather from the lingering weight of past mistakes we struggled to bid farewell. It’s when we grasp that the keys to our confinement have always resided within our reach, that we can truly herald the arrival of a new year. Pardon the apprehension of revisiting those dusty chapters of your life. Understand that renewal and rebirth are … Continue reading I arrived to nurture your seeds …

I used to think I was not good enough for anyone, in my profession…

In the quiet of night, when the world is hushed and still, a whisper creeps into the chambers of my mind, echoing doubts I thought I had overcome. It speaks of inadequacy, of not measuring up, weaving self-doubts that once ensnared me in its suffocating embrace. I used to believe I was not enough, that my efforts would never be sufficient, that my presence was merely a fleeting shadow in the grand theater of life. The doubts lingered like ghosts, haunting my profession, my relationships, and every corner of my existence. But I broke free from those chains, shattered the … Continue reading I used to think I was not good enough for anyone, in my profession…

Pour yourself over the paper …

Drag a pen across paper, etching your pain into the fibers, leaving behind a trail of tear-stained corners. Breathe hot, alcohol-scented breaths into the pages, a futile attempt to silence the screams within. Handle it with caution, as if it were poison, a dangerous concoction of your innermost thoughts and emotions. Slide it between the leaves of an old dusty book, a hidden treasure of your turmoil, and then walk away, never to revisit its haunting words. Feel it in the swell of your chest on good days, a reminder that even in moments of joy, the pain still lingers. … Continue reading Pour yourself over the paper …

The anger in me …

The anger in me cannot write poems It sits and watches as my words struggle to break free it spits in the face of those who claim there is only one race While the sun is stained with innocent blood. It sits and watches as the words shatter into countless stanzas trying to find their place on my tongue, but I cannot form them into coherent thoughts, the anger sits in the corner of my heart, waiting for calm. The earth is burdened with the blood of the innocent as summer days are tainted with the souls of those who … Continue reading The anger in me …