Body of crime My body doesn't like me. My heart does what it wants. My fingers betray me. My mind seeks what I no longer want to think. I spend years, millennia, controlling my instincts, Supporting the "don't want," Suffocating his sighs. But my body - this flesh and blood being and no reason This will be of unspeakable behavior and morals He's always lurking, To disassemble me in weakness, want and longing. It's not supposed to be like this. That's not who I am. I'm someone with capacity and potential. A potential that never comes true, A capacity that never overflows. I'm... Who? Someone who knows they're hurting each other, But he insists. Someone who knows you should forget, But you don't throw it out of your head. Someone who thinks life will go on, And always, always right. I should have deleted all the messages by now, Deleted memories and conversations, But today... Today my fingers have betrayed me And I betrayed you. I betrayed your desire to speak no more I betrayed my own absence, which was doing you so well!... I betrayed your expectation that it would be easy for me. But it wasn't me. I'm not like that. It was just my fingers, my heart and my mind, These involuntary beings who, insistently, They seek hope where only warm ashes remain...