Tag: writing

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I wonder why arrivals never hurt, I wonder why departures always do …

beatrizesmer

I am captivated by the ebb and flow of existence; the comings and goings that stitch the fabric of our days. Each breath, a silent witness to life’s fleeting dance, marks the rhythm of a world in constant motion. The rise and fall, a testament to the cycles that govern us — the heartbeat of the cosmos in the chest of humanity. The push and pull, a force as old as time, propels the cars that rush by in a steady stream, each a vessel of stories untold. Hellos and farewells punctuate our journeys, brief encounters that shape the narrative … Continue reading I wonder why arrivals never hurt, I wonder why departures always do …

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Gratitude

beatrizesmer

In the warm sanctuary of our home, where the hearth glows with the warmth of unity, let the table overflow with the harvest of our toil. May it be a testament to the bounty we share, a cornucopia of plenty that nourishes not just the body, but the soul. Let our house be a hallowed place, walls steeped in the echoes of laughter and love, a sanctuary where every stone is laid with the mortar of respect and every beam resonates with the strength of our bond. In the gentle clasp of hands, may forgiveness be an act most divine, … Continue reading Gratitude

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Tie yourself to me

beatrizesmer

Tie yourself to me, for in the embrace of our unity, the vastness between us is severed by the tender graze of my lips. They whisper across the miles, a delicate touch that quiets the weeping rose, its petals a testament to the tears of joy shed in the wake of love’s gentle caress. Tie yourself to me, for the sands of time may be mute, but our hearts converse in rhythms and beats, a symphony only we can comprehend. In the silence, where words dare not tread, your name becomes the anthem that fills the void, a sacred echo … Continue reading Tie yourself to me

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Just Words

beatrizesmer

In these trying times, where shadows loom and silence reigns, we stand at the precipice, teetering on the edge of oblivion. The world, so ravaged and bare, cries out for a sliver of hope, a beacon to pierce the overwhelming darkness. We are not mere fragments, adrift and alone; we are the sum of a greater whole, bound by the intangible threads of shared existence. It is the melody of life that binds us, the rhythm of beating hearts, the silent symphony of interconnected souls. In the embrace of another, we find the courage to believe once more. For in … Continue reading Just Words

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Our Story Unfolds

beatrizesmer

Our story is not yet done, whispered by the winds that carry secrets through time. We, weary travelers, bear the weight of countless sunrises and moonlit nights etched into our souls. Bruised to the bone, we wear our scars like constellations, mapping the journey of our existence. Parts of us have departed, seeking elusive balance. They wander through the labyrinth of memories, tracing the contours of forgotten dreams. Each fragment, a puzzle piece yearning to reunite with its kin, dances on the edge of destiny. In the quiet hours, we listen to the echoes of our own longing. Seeking out … Continue reading Our Story Unfolds

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Petite Amour

beatrizesmer

This my silly heart, so small, a fragile vessel stitched together with whispers and stardust. It beats in syncopated rhythms, a clandestine dance beneath the ribcage. And then there’s love—mon amour—grandiose, a tempest that defies gravity, that spills over the edges of existence. Picture it: love as a nomad, untethered, riding the wind’s currents. It flits through open windows, rustles curtains, and leaves traces of saffron and longing. It descends, a feathered comet, alighting on the branch of a pomegranate tree. There, it loosens ruby seeds—the secrets of passion, the taste of forbidden kisses. But love is capricious. It falls, … Continue reading Petite Amour

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Unapologetically Me

beatrizesmer

I am the woman of my own dreams, a constellation of desires that need no permission to sparkle. No longer do I seek validation from hollow echoes; my worth is etched in stardust and fire. My wishes unfurl like silk ribbons, and the universe nods in agreement. My wish is my command, whispered to the cosmos as I paint my reality with bold strokes. The canvas of my life stretches wide, waiting for the hues of my choosing—crimson courage, azure adventure, and golden resilience. With hands unshackled, I lay each brick upon the foundation of existence. My life is my own, a cathedral … Continue reading Unapologetically Me

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Father

beatrizesmer

Allow me to be the mirror of my dark days, reflecting their shadows and scars. Let me hold up the glass to my own soul, unflinching, unafraid. For it is in this raw reflection that I find the seeds of transformation. And the echo of my truths—those whispered confessions, those unspoken longings—they resonate within me. They bounce off the walls of my heart, reverberating through time. Teach me to listen, not just with my ears, but with the depths of my being. Let me hear the symphony of my existence—the dissonance and harmony, the crescendos, and lulls. Teach me to … Continue reading Father

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Whispers of the Soul

beatrizesmer

I saw my soul once, near my father’s grave, crying. It wept silently, its tears mingling with the dew-kissed grass. The wind carried its sorrow, and the heavens bore witness to its ache. In that sacred moment, I felt the weight of eternity—the fragile thread that binds us to memory and loss. Crying is what I do when the winds blow, when the world turns its back on my solitude. The sky knows my secrets, the hidden crevices of my heart. And I am alone, a solitary wanderer in the vast expanse of night. Against the darkness, I fight for my … Continue reading Whispers of the Soul

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Hungry Hearts

beatrizesmer

In the quiet chambers of our souls, where vulnerability blooms like wildflowers, there exists a hunger—an ache that defies reason. It is not the gnawing emptiness of an unsatisfied stomach, nor the desperate longing for mere sustenance. No, it is a hunger that transcends the mundane, reaching for something more profound. There is no shame in this hunger—for it is the pulse of life itself. We are starving creatures, yearning to be seen, touched, and known. Our hearts, like famished travelers, seek refuge in the warmth of another’s gaze. We crave connection—the kind that stitches souls together, leaving no room … Continue reading Hungry Hearts