It hurts...my stomach hurts. My heart hurts. My body hurts. My soul hurts. My mind hurts. Why do I hurt. Why don't I ever stop hurting. I am defeated. There is no money for help. I am starving.I paint to distract myself...there are so many layers on the canvas. Any color once there is now covered by darkness. You can't see her but shes there in the center...look closely, no closer! Her face is covered by strands of hair. She doesn't want you to see her! She is looking down, closing herself off in tense posture. Do you see her thigh? It is massive. She hates it, my god shes disgusted but she still ate the lettuce! What was she thinking.
People don't know how ghostly she once was...they don't know she is even sicker now, though one might not see it.
Ignorance.
Stop looking.
But please look.
She's is crying for love. She is bleeding black..red would be too bright. She hides her ribcage, oh I can feel it! And she smiles...but you won't see it.
She won't stop running even without a morsel. She can't remember what that tastes like, she can only have the green stuff. Dry.

Can you see it in her painting? Look look! There it is, but its covered by darkness.

She is no longer splashing or forcing anger onto the canvas. She is too empty and un-energized to be angry, she smiles and dabs the paint in slippery nervous and slow strokes. Her smile is concerning...it is not fake or real. Its almost psychotic. She is so lost she doesn't know what to do.

She stops painting...how hideous..no one will ever see this.

And she will fail- as usual.