Silence, Heart!
Before you embark on a journey of love,
You must first dig two graves:
One for the certain and one for the unknown.

The unknown is my nothing;
It is imaginary.
It is the negative inside the radical.
Together we will produce a positive,
For I am a negative, too.
But my certain has always been a positive,
And our addition will only cancel out,
Creating a nothing.
My positive will no longer exist.

But how can I subtract my nothing?
It is zero,
And you cannot divide by a zero
Unless the path is undefined,
In which case, I would be travelling
Toward a never-ending apocalypse,
Unable to approach a definite endpoint.

I can connect nothing with nothing,
But how far away should I stand
To form a triangle?
The geometry of my conundrum
Has baffled the mathematician
And has left me travelling in circles,
Continuing the same vicious path.

Speak, Heart!
When do scalars become vectors?
Give me a direction!
Do I travel in those certain circles
Or head off on a tangent,
Racing toward the unknown?