One Soul, One Hundred And Two Hearts

i know you must be hurting. except i haven't really seen you so i can't be totally sure. but since we share a soul and mine's hurting for no good reason i can think of, it just must be yours. and since we haven't spoke you don't tell me what's the matter. and i wonder how i could help.
so you know i would tear a hundred hearts out to be sure that your's is safe. and against all odds i'd hire a taxidermist and have them all stuffed and saved, displayed on my mantelpiece.

and then my soul would cease to hurt.
the other one hundred would replace that empty space on my nightstand where at dusk we'd take our hearts out and leave them there 'til morning. at night we would dream and come morning we'd reconvene and carefully place them back in. those heartless nights in which our love didn't matter, it was purely the soul that remembered our actions.

and you left me alone, with my heart on the nightstand, attached to the soul we share in such an uncanny way, but half that soul is mine and maybe i'd want custody again sometime soon. if i remembered what to do. me - here, sharing all the good, and you like hell, and you! all i have from you is a bit of misery that i can't undo, can't return without hurting myself and i don't even know what makes it grow, or puts it to rest. these lingering pains that put me to the test.

how i have a vested interest in your swollen from too much hurt heart, i haven't a clue, but someone up there is enjoying this show.