It started out in kindergarten
Counting, one two three
Every single shining fruit
On the apple tree
Teacher called out very clear
To say each number loud
We wanted to sound smart
So we said our numbers proud
On we marched up through the grades
Counting numbers, ready to add
One two three four five six seven
But nothing's a challenge; it's really sad
Then comes multiplication
Work is getting hard
One times two is two
Every single answer on an index card
Next we're almost to middle school
This is getting harder, day by day
Counting minutes, counting hours
School's almost out in May
Oh, look! It's seventh grade!
We're big kids, no?
Counting "boyfriends"
But it's all just for show
Suddenly I'm sad and mad and gloomy
I don't know what to do
So I count out cuts
Starting with one, then two
Going from two to twenty
I'm not sure how, but it escalates
Little scars on my skin,
I'm feeling great
I shouldn't be doing this
One two three
Oh my fucking god
This is bad, I'm not healthy
Bloodstains everywhere
Blood and blood, bloodier and bloodier
Cut too deep
I start to shudder
Now I'm counting therapy visits
Twice every single week
They tell that I'm strong
But I think I'm very weak
My friends find out what's happening
I didn't want them to know
But now they know everything
I've dealt them a heavy blow
They are very cautious
They're not sure how to deal
Not sure I'm mentally stable
Unsure if I can ever heal
One two three
Four five six, seven
Now that I can't cut
I won't be going to heaven
Funny how things change
Within the span of years
And how excitement
Can quickly turn to tears
