Buried Deep

Somewhere buried deep she exists. She keeps searching, digging, peeling away the layers, but to no avail she can't find herself. Did she ever exist? I don't even think she had a chance to fully develop. Life kept chipping away, making dents and not allowing her soul to blossom into a full fledged flower. Instead, dry and brittle peddles keep dropping off one by one. Is is possible to feel whole? She wonders this often, but never finalizes the thought with a satisfying answer. So the search continues, she meanders on, only to follow a well worn path that leads to nowhere. A perpetual cycle that never fails to deliver a dizzying, frustrating, soul searching effort to find what is buried deep.