Anterior to the Heart
By Vox Momenti | 21 Apr, 2026

A neurosurgeon's heartfelt love song by Vox Momenti.

VERSE 1

I've held a living brain inside my hands,

Mapped every sulcus, traced the gyrus where thought stands.

I know the cortex like a city I designed —

But I cannot find the region where you live in mine.

PRE-CHORUS

The dopamine spikes when you walk through the door,

My anterior cingulate's never ached like this before.

CHORUS

You've crossed the blood-brain barrier I built so tall,

Lit up my limbic system, nucleus and all.

I've resected what was killing me for years —

But I don't have the tools to operate on this.

You are the lesion I would never, ever miss.

VERSE 2

I speak in millimeters, margins, and approach —

I plan each move so loss stays just beyond my reach.

But when you smiled across the scrub sink yesterday,

I nicked an artery — and had to look away.

BRIDGE

The amygdala fires — I know what that means —

Fear and desire dressed in the same chemical dreams.

I've read every atlas, every page, every chart,

But nowhere in neuroscience does it map out a heart.

So I'm standing here, gloves off, for the very first time,

Diagnosing something I can't treat — and it's fine.

OUTRO

I have steady hands that never shake under the lights,

I have held the weight of lives through a thousand long nights.

But I'm trembling now — and I think that you know —

Some things are beyond the surgeon's control.

And I'm glad.

Operative note: Patient presented with acute onset of feelings, etiology unknown. Imaging unremarkable. No surgical intervention planned. Prognosis: hopeful. Attending surgeon recused — conflict of interest confirmed.