One heartbeat after another

They say that in the most hidden places of the heart there are secrets and truths as simple as toasting bread. They say that if we do not listen to this organ it may show us signs that there's something wrong because we are, in deed, ignoring it. They say that there is no evil that lasts 100 years nor a body that can resist it, but the heart seeks for attention, and it will probably kill us if we don't give him what he wants. Lost and wrapped in a cloak of self-imposed truths and lies disguised as self-limiting desires and frustrations that linger. That persist over time and keep on bothering us. Because we try to ignore them and without wanting to, we only make them become stronger. More immense. Like walls that separate us from our thoughts and emotions. Like borders that become increasingly intrinsic to our joints, and forbid us to move as we wish. To act as we would like to. As if we were self-injecting the poison that will slowly and painfully end up suffocating us until we die completely. Like a growing vine in our veins. Like chains held by our own hands, that tightens our hearts and will reach a point where there will be no option but to burst it. Because that was his destiny. That was always his destiny. The destiny that we created, that we built and the one that will be written with the red ink that has been spilled. A new life, a new blank sheet. A new heart, a new beginning.