the truthful glance you cast upon me exhumed through the concrete of the casket and crushed me into a pulverized valentine's card, the ones smothered with sweet nothings onto a canvas donning a bleeding heart, and it dared to push through to the other side of this cuckoo house nest--the damned rib cage within this punctured chest. draping that valiant heart onto the shoulders of these blessed pallbearers, every convulsion of the sealed casket a decree of love from the tomb: i love being nothing to you. and still, my oldest love lives young.