Tag: prose

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The Half-Past-One Blues

beatrizesmer

There are moments that I yearn to escape from, to shed this skin that serves as a transient sanctuary. Yet, there are milestones where I find solace in my own presence, marveling at the distance my spirit has traversed. I strive to distill my days into simplicity, but I encounter souls, spaces, and objects that stir my core, inundating me with a torrent of emotions that remain an alien dialect to my speech. I am youthful, at least in spirit, and it feels as though I have witnessed a treasure chest of bygone eras. The purpose of my existence is … Continue reading The Half-Past-One Blues

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A Poem, A Song, A Story

beatrizesmer

Deep in my heart, I feel regret, a heaviness that has seeped into my days. I’ve worn it like a cloak, a weight that has tethered me to the earth, pulling me from the sky in a relentless downpour. These are the days where names have lost their meaning, where the echo of my own seems to fade into the background. But amidst this melancholy, spring has arrived, a season that I’ve always claimed as my own. It has brought with it a blooming, a sudden burst of color that has taken me by surprise. It’s an invitation, an opportunity … Continue reading A Poem, A Song, A Story

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Being Strong

beatrizesmer

In the quiet core of your being, listen. Listen to the salted caramel voices of the women within you. Their whispers are the echoes of a thousand generations, a symphony of strength and resilience. Their stories, heavy with wisdom and experience, paint vivid pictures on the canvas of your skin. This skin, it’s thick. Thick like the barriers we’ve crossed, the obstacles we’ve overcome. Thick like the borders we’ve birthed, the lines we’ve drawn in the sand to claim our space in the world. Thick like the borders we’ve burned, the constraints we’ve shattered in our quest for freedom. Yet, … Continue reading Being Strong

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A Simple Reminder

beatrizesmer

Deep in your soul, you’ll discover a truth that’s as profound as it is simple: you are your own sanctuary. Yes, you can seek solace in the warmth of another’s embrace, intertwine your fingers with theirs, but the echo of loneliness cannot be silenced by mere physical presence. An empty house remains empty, no matter how many guests you invite, if the owner never returns. Sometimes, the hero of your story is you. There will be mornings when you’ll rise from your bed, your heart heavy as a stone sinking into the ocean’s depths. Yet, your legs will not falter, … Continue reading A Simple Reminder

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Tears…

beatrizesmer

Tears that streamed down my cheeks and vanished abruptly on my lips. I wept for the first time in my youth, on the initial day of detachment from beloved ones, in my teenage years, for the first love’s deceit… for the initial blemish on my face. Subsequently, I refined my weeping. I shed tears for hatred, disillusionment, disappointment, despair, agony, fear, and yearning! I also chuckled, enchanted, and elated. I wept out of loathing for those who mercilessly perpetrate atrocities against our kin. I sobbed in disillusionment and disappointment at those who maliciously betrayed my trust and all the love … Continue reading Tears…

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The Bridge of Laughter and Tears

beatrizesmer

In the quiet hours of our shared existence, we dream of a bridge—a fragile span woven from laughter and tears. It is not a bridge of stone or steel, but of ephemeral moments that bind us. One day, we will laugh until our bellies ache, our eyes crinkling at the corners. Our laughter will echo across the chasm, filling the void with joy. We’ll share secrets, silly jokes, and memories—the kind that linger like the scent of rain on warm earth. And then, when the world turns somber, we’ll cry. Not the quiet tears of solitude, but the kind that … Continue reading The Bridge of Laughter and Tears

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The Poet’s Journey

beatrizesmer

From the milk of my mother’s breast, a tender nourishment bestowed upon me, I emerged into this world—a vessel of life, a seeker of truth. The very essence of existence flowed through my veins, whispered secrets of ancient stars, and cradled my nascent soul. And then, the verses began—the delicate threads spun by the loom of my heart. Each word, a filament of longing, a filament of wonder. I wove them into tapestries of thought, embroidered with dreams and stitched with memories. They danced across the parchment, pirouetting in moonlight, their syllables like celestial notes. Prose, too, found its way … Continue reading The Poet’s Journey

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Prose about the beauty of words

beatrizesmer

At 2:54 a.m., let me craft verses that strip away the veils of the mundane, words that stand unadorned, unashamed in their truth, barer than the flesh that whispers secrets in the dark. Let these syllables be the architects of strength, fortifying the spirit beyond the steadfastness of bone, weaving resilience into the fabric of our being, more enduring than the sinew that binds us. Let my prose touch you with the delicacy of a lover’s caress, with a sensitivity that trembles at the brush of nerve against the world’s canvas, painting emotions in hues so vivid, they leave the … Continue reading Prose about the beauty of words

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Sadness

beatrizesmer

When sadness comes to visit me, I welcome it with open arms, acknowledging its presence with a gentle “I see you.” I sit with it, allowing its weight to settle upon my shoulders, feeling its touch upon my soul. I don’t rush it away, for it is a part of me, a visitor in the house of my heart. I spend some time with this melancholic guest, understanding its whispers and the shadows it casts. I listen to its story, let its tears flow, and allow its echoes to reverberate within me. And as I sit in its company, I … Continue reading Sadness