A tourniquet sits so perfectly in its place
A guillotine never used
Handcuffs and knives and whips all on their tables
What to choose
What to choose
Starting with the knives
Sliding deep in my flesh
My blood run red as a rose
Across my wrists
Across my ankles
Slowly walking to the tourniquet
Thinking 'Is this what i really want?'
Making my decision to die this day
Stepping up on the platform tears welling up in my porcelain looking eyes
Tighten the knot to perfection
Kicking the platform from under my feet
Too late to turn back
Tears turn to blood
Dreams turn to nightmares
My lifeless body dangles from the tourniquet so perfect in its place

 
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