I can't control
This heart of mine.

It twists and turns,
And it seems to me,
It lost its mind.

Sometimes it pounds,
Love irrational.

Sometimes it grieves,
Weeping of things no more.

The heart cries,
Yes it does.
Of things still there.

A heart is confused,
A thing of no sense at all.

It can flutter with love,
And then be still,
Immobile.

The head wants it to do one thing,
But a heart never listens.
It takes turns,
Sharp and unexpected.

It clenches and it dances,
Other times,
Nothing at all.

A heart of infatuation,
And then of something with
No love at all.

It hates
And cries.

It loves
And dies.

Cold as stone
And full of warmth.

;

A heart it is.