Fragments – Heartbeat Collision

“Your heartbeat crashed into mine, like galaxies in a fatal line.”

Some songs don’t begin with melody.
They begin with a pulse.
A tremor.
A silence charged with something unspoken.

Heartbeat Collision was born in a quiet café.
Not from a kiss.
Not even from a word.
Just from a look.
Two strangers. One glance.
And a storm behind the stillness.

The title came before the lyrics.
A black notebook. One line:

“Your heart hit mine before we ever touched.”

From that impact, the song took shape —
percussive, electric, nervous.
It wasn’t a love story. Not exactly.
It was the moment just before something becomes one.
A crackling tension. A heartbeat out of rhythm.
The beautiful chaos of attraction before it finds its name.

Musically, Heartbeat Collision is built around contrast.
Raw synths. Irregular beats.
Moments of calm shattered by cosmic bursts.
Every section flirts with collapse,
yet finds balance — like two souls learning how to orbit one another.

Lyrically, it’s a song of “love at first sight” —
but stripped of fantasy.
It’s about how one look can make you forget the world.
Not in a dreamlike way,
but with such clarity that it hurts.

A tension between wanting and fearing.
Between staying quiet, and reaching out.
Between collision… and surrender.

Is it a love song? Maybe.
But more than that, it’s a song about the aftershock.
About how some moments don’t just pass —
they shift you.

Heartbeat Collision doesn’t try to explain what love is.
It simply tries to capture that one instant
when everything changes
— even if no one else sees it.