Cutting 1-10

Cut your wrists, you count to one,
Skin cells split, it has begun.
Feel the pain, you count to two,
The blood starts coming, what did you do?
Watch it bleed, you count to three,
The blood starts pooling, seen clearly.
It tastes metallic, count to four,
Watch the blood drip to the floor.
The pain dulls down, you count to five,
Your wrist still stings, you feel the high.
The blood's still dripping, count to six,
Now you're starting to feel sick.
You're starting to worry, count to seven,
You hope you live, you pray to heaven.
The blood keeps pooling, count to eight,
You begin to realize it's too late.
The blood won't stop, you count to nine,
You're starting to run out of time.
Your eyes close now, you count to ten,
Now you can never cut again.