Heart
I lost my heart long ago,
no love is left to bestow,
only the performance I show
whenever you’re in need.
There is no second act,
the stage is cold, in fact,
I am a hollow artifact…
but a dynamic lie, indeed.
I am no faithful place,
not a "forever" cruel embrace,
I am just what you face
when you look away from you.
A pulse without a soul,
an echo out of control,
a touch that takes its toll
and never heals quite true.
I have the imagination
to bring you to the sun,
if you seek the sensation
of melting into one.
I can invent a sky,
burn you until you cry,
make ice a funeral tie
that invites you to come near.
And if you stay close, I’ll speak in a low tone,
name the eternal even if it’s unknown,
I’ll give you a world made to your own measure
where pain feels like a shadow, barely shown.
I can look at you as if you truly mattered,
as if you were the only soul not shattered,
and in that fragile, perfect, fleeting moment
you’ll believe you were chosen, loved, and flattered.
Come now, come with me if you’re tired of the game,
of the standard romance that everyone calls by name,
that routine of promises that break without a sound,
that mediocre theater, so tedious and tame.
Where "I love you" weighs less than the silence at the end,
where the soul is traded for the comfort of a friend,
where everyone settles for just not failing quite yet…
and they call that peace, I bet.
Come toward me; I am here,
today for you, you for me,
you’ll see that if you enter my world
you’ll never want to be free.
Because there is no guilt in here,
no rules for you to fear,
no "should feel" to interfere
or limit what you do.
Here the script is torn away,
reason is led astray,
and the body takes the play
you’ve always hidden from view.
Don’t ask if this is right,
let the law fade from sight,
I promise what’s forbidden burns
with a much more exquisite light.
It’s natural to want more than one skin,
more than one body to lose yourself in,
more than one "perhaps" to begin,
not that farce of choosing once and calling it a win.
Tell me, haven't you looked a second too long?
In your mind, haven't you touched where you don't belong?
Haven't you built scenes where the urge is too strong
to ever confess you were wrong?
Fidelity isn't purity... it’s just control,
a cage dressed as virtue to swallow the soul,
a contract where terror plays the lead role
and desire is a debt and a toll.
Faithful is the one who learned how to suppress,
to swallow the impulse, to hide and confess,
to turn the resistance into a routine…
and call that "living", I guess.
It isn't natural… this concept of "one,"
of belonging like an object when the day is done;
monogamy is an opportunistic pact
that keeps the consumer's ego intact.
Reality is far less elegant, you see:
no one is faithful in their mind's jewelry,
and if the act left no trace for the world to find…
most would cross the line and leave it all behind.
And no, it isn't malice, just a simple drive,
it’s curiosity keeping the pulse alive,
it’s the body ignoring the hollow advice
of pretending that one could suffice.
And this is what they fail to see,
those moralists outside who judge you and me,
who only pretend to defame the bold
who have what they only in dreams can behold.
They speak of limits with a trembling tone,
of purity as if it were a cornerstone,
but they shake when they hear the distant sound
of what they deny when they are alone.
Outside they call it a sin,
what here is just the fun,
for they have never felt the heat
of a fire that can't be outrun.
For they have never fallen
without seeking a prayer,
nor tasted the vice
as the only thing there.
If you stay here I can guarantee
that being with me is a victory,
I am the mage who makes reality
of whatever you desire… except loving me.
Because to love implies to give,
and I only know how to take,
to recreate, to manipulate…
and to make you stay for my sake.
Life is short and beauty even more,
come to me now while I’m at your door,
being with me you won't regret…
but you’ll regret it if you choose to forget.
Because the "what might have been"
weighs more than the fright,
and the fear of the void
always loses to the light.
And when it all ends,
when the fire descends,
when the last star collapses and bends,
when the body no longer finds
a reason to make amends...
There will be no promise to break,
no wound for the world to take,
no guilt that will ever wake
upon my name or my face.
Just a faint memory,
a "almost" left to be,
an incomplete urge
that still hides you in its space.
And perhaps, in the deep,
you’ll hate that you didn't leap,
or that you did it too much…
without a choice you could keep.
Because I never choose,
I only let them through,
and I let them get lost
those who want a taste of the new.
I was born without a heart,
there is no replacement for the part…
but you, if you dare,
stand to lose something much more rare.