Suffocating on Confetti for the Brokenhearted

Suffocating under your unreliant kisses,
when will you stop being such a tease?
There’s more to me than just a body,
I have a heart in here somewhere.
Here’s a shovel, come dig it out,
take a look for yourself,
it’s beating fast and skipping
just for you, no one else.
Stop it if you’re any bit displeased.
Take it between your hands,
rip it out and tear it up,
throw the shreds into the air,
creating confetti for the brokenhearted.

Suffocating under your savage numbness,
when will you stop being such a tease?
There’s more to me than just a body,
I have miles of tangled emotions
all circling around your being.
Here’s some scissors, poke around,
cut out anything that disturbs you.
Remember no two threads are alike
and they’re kind of hard to read,
you just might be here all night.
So take the easy way out and
cut it all into a million tiny pieces,
turning confetti for the brokenhearted.

I understand if this is all new to you,
these foreign organs of unstable poisons,
weighing down logical thought and reason,
blushing the skin and causing chills.
Not all are so unlucky as to obtain them,
but immunity to them is obtained by no one.
They refuse to become completely dormant
even within those they decided to inhabit,
just twisted around with practice instead
or with the help of someone like you.
And with that I hope you choke the hardest,
suffocating on the mess you left me in,
suffocating on confetti for the brokenhearted.