Tag: poetry

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Who loves you …

beatrizesmer

In the eyes of those who love you, there is no room for judgment or condemnation. They see beyond the mistakes and the flaws, and instead, they hold onto the memories of your true essence. When you feel lost in the shadows of your own doubts and insecurities, they are there to remind you of the light that shines within you. They see your beauty, even when you can’t see it yourself. They see your strength, even when you feel broken and fragile. They see the innocence in your heart, even when guilt weighs heavy on your soul. And when … Continue reading Who loves you …

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Simple things …

beatrizesmer

I come from humble people, from a lineage of simplicity and grace. I have lived a humble life, finding joy in the little things and embracing the beauty of the ordinary. My aspirations do not lie in the grandeur of a fancy home, but in the warmth and contentment of a happy one. This is more me than the allure of “fancy” things. I admire antiques, drawn to the craftsmanship and textures that tell stories of generations past. I find solace in architecture, in the intricate details that whisper of history and time. I love to draw with graphite and … Continue reading Simple things …

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I arrived to nurture your seeds …

beatrizesmer

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 …

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

beatrizesmer

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…

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Pour yourself over the paper …

beatrizesmer

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 …

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Who am I?

beatrizesmer

I am the color of the sky, the vast expanse of blue that stretches beyond the horizon, the endless possibilities and dreams that soar high above. I am the freedom and the hope that whispers in the wind, the gentle touch that reminds you to keep reaching for the stars. I am the color of the earth, the grounding force that connects you to the roots of your being, the stability and resilience that holds you steady in the storm. I am the foundation on which you build your life, the solid ground that supports you through every trial and … Continue reading Who am I?

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Mother

beatrizesmer

A beacon of love and understanding, come, indulge in the tales of my untraveled journeys, bring forth red ink, the hue of life’s essence, ink that mirrors the pulse of existence, vivid and real. Mother, run your gentle fingers through my hair, for my soul yearns to wander, to explore the unknown, my mind, a vessel of memories not yet lived, thirsty for the promise of discovery, longing for the open road. When you return, ascend the steps to our abode, each one a testament to the rhythm of our lives, I will learn them by heart, as I yearn … Continue reading Mother

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The anger in me …

beatrizesmer

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 …

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I am a hundred different people

beatrizesmer

I am a hundred different people outside of my words, a kaleidoscope of emotions and experiences that dance and shift with the passing of time. I am a chameleon, adapting to the world around me, never quite settling on a single identity. But when I pick up a pen and let the ink flow onto the page, I become something more. Poetry may not be who I am, but it is the only way I am truly recognized. In the rhythm of my verses, in the imagery of my lines, I find a reflection of my true self. Through poetry, … Continue reading I am a hundred different people

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Poetry is a love affair between the soul and words …

beatrizesmer

Poetry is a love affair between the soul and words, a dance of emotions and thoughts intertwined. It is the way of the heart to express its deepest desires and fears, to whisper its secrets and dreams to the world. In the delicate balance of rhythm and rhyme, the soul finds solace and release. Each word a brushstroke on the canvas of the heart, painting a picture of the innermost feelings and yearnings. Through poetry, the soul speaks its truth, weaving a tapestry of emotions that resonate with the hearts of others. It is a prayer, a plea for understanding … Continue reading Poetry is a love affair between the soul and words …