Scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Trying to give you more of me. 

Trying to find something unexplored, untouched, and ultimately innocent about me. 

But I have a peculiar feeling that no matter how long I scrape or as tightly as I hold on to the parts of me I know already exist,

it will never be enough to receive the praise I used to. 

More, more, they say. 

I want to respond, questioning why all I have given isn’t worthy, but instead,

I will keep digging. 

I will keep doing as I am told. 

I will keep breaking down the walls in order to once again enter the innermost corners of my life, until I find the soul that was once beautiful. 

The soul you want.

And yet even though my efforts are noble, you still want more.

What shall I do when there is simply nothing left?

And how long will it take before I lose myself trying to find the new me I am supposed to be?