there once was a girl whose heart was so big, she was able to carry all of the hurts for everyone. she lived in a place with lots of hurt so her load was very heavy. you see, most of the hearts in that time were very fragile and easily broken. she was different though, because her heart was a heart of flesh and not easily broken. it was not because she did not hurt. in fact, she had endured many of her own personal atrocities. instead of breaking her though, as it did others, it only made her feel pain more acutely. the thing with broken hearts and dreams is that the edges are very very sharp and very very ragged. they splinter easily. one must exhibit the utmost of care to pick them up and it is impossible to carry them around. throughout her journies, she had encountered many bloodied and bandaged fingers from people who had tried. though their fingers were cut to the bone, and they dripped their blood everywhere they went, these people continued to carry their pieces with them. they didnt know that it wasn't meant to be like that. and that was what her job was. to fix the broken things. she took the pieces from them, and at great peril to herself, slid their broken pieces into her heart of flesh. the edges were sharp and they slid in easily, but there were always shards. and as they splintered inside her, she knew the pain of others. she would give them a piece of her heart, to remind them what flesh was like and bandaged their wounds. she would collect their tears in a cup and drink them so the other need not know the burning of salt in a wound. over time, the flesh of her heart would engulf the broken shards and pull them deeper, causing them to splinter until they reached the very most inner place and finally dissenigrate. she did this many times and they were many hearts of flesh that had grown because of the small piece that had been given by this girl. this girl whose heart was so big. the thing with hearts of flesh is that they can bleed, and she has lost a lot of blood. too much blood.