Author Note: The song as follows: Tourniquet, does not belong to me. It
belongs to the artist Evanescence. R&R if you want to. Know this though,
the following story does come my heart and is my true thoughts. My life is
hell and I do wish for suicide or at least death. Every other line is the
song because my com is stupid and won't let me do italics at this time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Suicide: The thoughts of me.
Evil thoughts entered my head.
Not the kind of funny evil or perverted evil.
There was only one thing that followed my thoughts;
Death.
I tried to kill the pain
but only brought more.
My wrists were scarred by wounds.
Knives, Lighters, anything sharp were my only family.
I thought I had people who cared, sure.
But what they didn't see was the real me.
They didn't love me at all.
A true love who wished me dead,
Friends who eventually gave up on me.
I'm glad they did though.
I lay dying
and I'm pouring
crimson regret
and betrayal
That way no one will cry for me.
I've always been alone.
I'll never deny this truth.
Than I'd be denying my very existence.
What am I doing you ask?
Why, I'm dying of course.
I'm dying
and praying,
bleeding,
and screaming.
Of course,
now everyone wants to help me.
Why now,
when you finally see my scars?
I guess it really does take a tragedy
to open peoples eyes.
When you finally saw my life.
Why now though?
Am I too lost
to be saved?
Am I too lost?
My god, my tourniquet.
Return to me salvation
My god, my tourniquet.
Return to me salvation.
I sharpened the knife I had bought last night.
Now it's good enough to cut a single hair with no effort.
They should call me
The Spawn of Death
because that's what I really am.
I'm a morbid,
murderous killer
bound for hell.
Do you remember me?
Lost for so long.
Will you be on the other side?
Or will you forget me?
No one's there as I walk through
the door of my World War 3 home.
It's awful here too.
God, why don't you just let me die?!
How I long for it.
The comforting bitterness.
I'm dying,
praying,
bleeding,
and screaming.
Am I too lost
to be saved?
Am I too lost?
Someone just kill me.
I have no more meaning to this world
I quickly run to my room
and turn on my best song I have.
I want to sink into myself and hide.
Everyone just leave me alone and go away
forever.
If you don't, I'll end up killing you,
right before I kill myself.
MY God, my tourniquet.
Return to me salvation.
My God, my tourniquet,
return to me salvation.
First I cut my finger open and write DEATH
on the wall in blood, my blood.
It will never wash out.
Than I scream
'Kill me now'
in a blood curdling yell.
I WANT TO DIE!!!
Than I find the knife
I sharpened last night.
It's under my bed where corpses little the floor.
Yes, the bodies of those closest to me.
Until they too tried to fix me.
Why couldn't they see I'm not broken?
I'm only deadly.
May they rot in hell.
My God, my tourniquet
return to me salvation.
My God, my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
My reflection stares back at me in the knife.
I look up and see it in the mirror too.
My hand forms a fist and breaks it.
Now I look at a shatters
reflection of myself.
I smile a deadly grin and look back at the knife.
My wounds cry for the grave.
Quickly and happily
I slit my wrists,
enjoying the pain in irony.
My soul cries for Deliverance.
Than I press it to my forehead and leaves
a gash there, loving the blood as it drips down my face.
My clothes are black.
The dark mascara starts to drip from my eyes
as it soon finds the path
of blood.
Will I be denied...
I press it to my chest,
near my heart.
My eyes close and I smile
aas the knife plunges through my heart.
The clothes become littered in blood.
The floor and my body as well.
Christ..
I smile and finally laugh weakly
before everyhting goes black.
Tourniquet,
God,
thank you for giving me my wish at last.
Thank you for letting me die by suicide.
My suicide.
Suicide: The thoughts of me.
Evil thoughts entered my head.
Not the kind of funny evil or perverted evil.
There was only one thing that followed my thoughts;
Death.
I tried to kill the pain
but only brought more.
My wrists were scarred by wounds.
Knives, Lighters, anything sharp were my only family.
I thought I had people who cared, sure.
But what they didn't see was the real me.
They didn't love me at all.
A true love who wished me dead,
Friends who eventually gave up on me.
I'm glad they did though.
I lay dying
and I'm pouring
crimson regret
and betrayal
That way no one will cry for me.
I've always been alone.
I'll never deny this truth.
Than I'd be denying my very existence.
What am I doing you ask?
Why, I'm dying of course.
I'm dying
and praying,
bleeding,
and screaming.
Of course,
now everyone wants to help me.
Why now,
when you finally see my scars?
I guess it really does take a tragedy
to open peoples eyes.
When you finally saw my life.
Why now though?
Am I too lost
to be saved?
Am I too lost?
My god, my tourniquet.
Return to me salvation
My god, my tourniquet.
Return to me salvation.
I sharpened the knife I had bought last night.
Now it's good enough to cut a single hair with no effort.
They should call me
The Spawn of Death
because that's what I really am.
I'm a morbid,
murderous killer
bound for hell.
Do you remember me?
Lost for so long.
Will you be on the other side?
Or will you forget me?
No one's there as I walk through
the door of my World War 3 home.
It's awful here too.
God, why don't you just let me die?!
How I long for it.
The comforting bitterness.
I'm dying,
praying,
bleeding,
and screaming.
Am I too lost
to be saved?
Am I too lost?
Someone just kill me.
I have no more meaning to this world
I quickly run to my room
and turn on my best song I have.
I want to sink into myself and hide.
Everyone just leave me alone and go away
forever.
If you don't, I'll end up killing you,
right before I kill myself.
MY God, my tourniquet.
Return to me salvation.
My God, my tourniquet,
return to me salvation.
First I cut my finger open and write DEATH
on the wall in blood, my blood.
It will never wash out.
Than I scream
'Kill me now'
in a blood curdling yell.
I WANT TO DIE!!!
Than I find the knife
I sharpened last night.
It's under my bed where corpses little the floor.
Yes, the bodies of those closest to me.
Until they too tried to fix me.
Why couldn't they see I'm not broken?
I'm only deadly.
May they rot in hell.
My God, my tourniquet
return to me salvation.
My God, my tourniquet,
Return to me salvation.
My reflection stares back at me in the knife.
I look up and see it in the mirror too.
My hand forms a fist and breaks it.
Now I look at a shatters
reflection of myself.
I smile a deadly grin and look back at the knife.
My wounds cry for the grave.
Quickly and happily
I slit my wrists,
enjoying the pain in irony.
My soul cries for Deliverance.
Than I press it to my forehead and leaves
a gash there, loving the blood as it drips down my face.
My clothes are black.
The dark mascara starts to drip from my eyes
as it soon finds the path
of blood.
Will I be denied...
I press it to my chest,
near my heart.
My eyes close and I smile
aas the knife plunges through my heart.
The clothes become littered in blood.
The floor and my body as well.
Christ..
I smile and finally laugh weakly
before everyhting goes black.
Tourniquet,
God,
thank you for giving me my wish at last.
Thank you for letting me die by suicide.
My suicide.