ventricular fortitude

While goofing off and wearing my heart on my sleeve, I forgot where it was and let it get burned and buried.  Here we are in a black hallway.  Heading on down to my open heart casket.  I can't get over it.  I share it and it breaks.  Tell me about the heart of glass.  Why would some youngster point out all of my failings like I love them?  Does he think I don't know I'm a mess?  Does he think it will make me feel any better to hear it?  I know.  I know.  And diseased cities get eaten through.  No more sun.  We walk on in the wild rain.  Hearing the seasons change.  We walk on in the setting sun only to be one.  I visit his headstone often and wonder if he's like Schrodinger's cat.  Is he in there?  My mind can make him awaken and cry.  But, no.  He was dead when he was lowered into the ground, remember?  You can't walk miles in a drunken haze to raise the dead.  It doesn't work that way.  She used to play in the cemetery.  It was like her playground.  Bare foot and happy.  Until the storms came and chased her away.  When you don't want to meet beating hearts, this is where you play.