a new kind of danger

Analyization: a form of terrorism.

picking away at the truest of trues,

the reddest of reds.

Until what is left but a vessel.

And what once filled this body?

those beautiful emotions?

Well those have been picked, pruned, and fertilized until nothing is left on my apple tree but a few bug bitten leaves and just when i think its all for the better, that i soon will forget the bittersweet flavor of an unripen apple,

a baby green one sprouts.

And immediately thousands of people are rushed to the scene to prude and destroy this little apple until it is no more.

Because what is an emotion until it is spoken?

What is a feeling until it is shared?

what i see:

now, looking in the mirror is a completely different experience.

i no longer look for signs of improvement of disappointment.

no blemish counting or makeup checking.

instead i stare blankly at an unattractive being that used to be me.

i look to this utter emptiness. this whole lack of faith, spirit and soul and i wonder where that girl went.

i wonder if anything is to ever become of me.

i wonder if i can ever appreciate myself like i once had.

i wonder if i again will ever be called pretty.

pray.

have i been scared into religion?

subconsciously forced into something i consciously do not trust nor believe...

have i hid from all reason and science?

Have i tried to explain something I should not?

One dream told me if i refuse to belive,

i will be punished.

Well i am being punished now, and if god is real he will send me a sign, of hope.

without that sign.

without the knowlege that someone cares for me.

i cannot continue this journey,

one this wrong path.

but i will keep searching for the right on.

Because as dead as i feel on the inside.

I know there is more.

are you there god its me.

please god, let me be free.

notebook.

I am doing homeschool now,

falling away from what little i was before.

I take laxadives everyday,

for what little food i can force into my body.

This vessel is so vulnerable,

just waiting to be broken down again.

I often cannot breathe.

I often cannot think.

My humble body walks around wishing for a purpose.

Endlessly for a reason to my exsistance.

brittle bones, break.