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?