You want Love, love? I'll show you.

(A shoutout on rebellious sensitiveness)

Acompanhe as publicações semanais de poesia aqui:

• A que veio antes dessa foi “O medo e a esperança”.

• A que vem depois, “POESIA CONTEMPORÂNEA”.

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Content Warning:
The following text addresses suicidal ideation and existential despair. It is not recommended for people who are in an emotionally sensitive or vulnerable moment.

Essa é a versão original do poema. Se você não lê inglês, a adaptação traduzida está disponível aqui.

You want Love, love? I’ll show you.

You want kindness?
You want softness?
Enriched sensitiveness?
A glare of empathy, is what you need?
I’ll show you.

After I blow open the concrete armors you’ve put around your heart, you shall know the feeling flesh that lies beneath.

After you’ve been made to cough the poison that blends throughout your throat, clogging your lungs, I’ll dead stare in the eye as you breathe in for the first time.

You wonder why you’re numbed and claim you wish to be set free? I’ll show you what life feels like after we break the shackles that hold you hostage in your sleep.

For no lie can ever breed from the truth.
No kindness can breed from indifference.
No softness can breed from distance.
No sensitiveness comes without pain in a desensitised society.
And no empathy comes unclad of agony for one who lives in shapeshiftng vampiresque societal structures that feed on the misery of the masses for millenia.

You want love, darling?
TRULY?

Is the properly paid exclusive education
Of those directly your breed in plain dilation
Just as urgent as the murdered by bullets and starvation?
Or you rather not to think of it, and live a life of elation?
Did the impotence over that misery convince you into negation?

Was it all that easy to prompt your indifference?
To bring the matters home made you wish for some distance?
You want kindness?
You want softness?
Do you, really?
To whom?

AND WHAT ON EARTH MAKES YOU THINK THAT ANY OTHER HUMAN BEING ISN’T WORTH OF IT?

Or is it not your matter to be dealt with?

Isn’t it really?
Then it’s no one’s, cause no one is willing to do something about it.
Not those with some significant power, anyway.
It seems that the more powerfull they become, the less they care.
The more they dwell into the filth in power, more they become the filth themselves.

So that makes you think it’s not your problem?
Well, come on, love, could you at least care about it?
Why won’t you?

Is it the fact that it HURTS
To know you can’t do ANYTHING about it, no matter how much you care?
HOW LONG can you take having a heart among those who don’t?
WHAT CAN YOU DO about suffering without even tickling the power structures?
OF WHAT USE is empathy if everyone around you has surrended to resignation?
OF WHAT USE IS IT TO BLEED WILLINGLY IF YOU’RE POWERLESS?
It must be better to shield your feelings in order to survive!
It’s safer to plastify your lungs to not smell the filth! Pretend it’s alright...

And that, my dear, is how they win.
The indifferent.
The distant.
The desensitised.
The heartless lifesuckers.
They they make sure to mantain a society where normalized psychopathy unconsciously turns the life of empaths into a torturous living hell, until they finally choose suicide, or to change their mind, or to pretend they did it, in order to survive. Because you’ll literally starve if you don’t, mind you.

Are you ready to rebel?
Are you?
To be kind despite your powerlessness?
To be soft despite their ruthlessness?
To foster sensitiveness in a needle pit?
To be love when everyone has forgotten about it?
Well, get ready to bleed.

I’ve bled since I was five,
I’ve tried to numb it,
I’ve thought of suicide,
I’ve hated the fact that I’m alive.
But hey... why not rebel, right?
We’re alive anyway.
We’ll die anyway.
We’ll bleed anyway.
We’ll suffer anyway.
So we might just as well take the effort to put on some stupid dazzled look on their faces.

Who would have thought of it?
That madman was willing to contradict himself just to prioritise love?

Yeah, that’s me. That’s right.
And they won’t kill what I am before I die.

(Anyone In My Shoes, 14/04/2026)

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O poema You want Love, love? I’ll show you. faz parte do meu primeiro livro de poesia, o Doses Endovenosas de Humanidade.
Nele eu compartilho algumas histórias e contextos que só aparecem nessa edição física, que nenhum assinante online, gratuito ou pago, terá.

Aqui eu conto mais sobre a origem desse livro.

Esse foi um poema de A Longa Jornada de Mim.

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© 2026 Theo Sant’Ana. Este texto é protegido por leis de direitos autorais. A reprodução total ou parcial não é permitida sem autorização expressa do autor.

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Photo by Valentin Salja on Unsplash

P.s.: Para fazer essa publicação, eu usei o seguinte setup autoprovocativo, que é um dos 5 passos simples de uma linha de produção textual de um Processo Criativo Explosivo para sua escrita:

Para aprender como dar conta de mais de 30 rascunhos simultâneos usando uma linha de produção textual de apenas 5 passos, e como ter pelo menos 7 boas ideias por semana, de propósito, confira a publicação: