The onion-peeler

There are so many delicate layers

buried deep

joys and dreams carefully nestled

disappointments and lessons I am forced to keep

Such worlds within worlds

each its own kind of semi-conclusion

to a certain strong thought or emotion

its own seat in this congregation of feelings

each sometimes,masquerading as the whole of me

all huddling close for comfort

to escape the vulnerability of the outside

Who knows what they will find out ?

How will they perceive what they find?

So much to avoid being peeled, exposed

And then there is the outer visage

The introduction ; the opening page

That shields so well what lies underneath

In a whirlpool of conflicting emotions

a layered identity struggling to breathe

Why is this tendency to grow in layers

so carefully wrapped and bound

Holding on tightly to those guarded experiences

muted, silent in the everyday sound

A secrecy that refuses to dare

the hows and whys (of me) it will never share

It is something/someone in the making

like an unfinished sculpture or a painting

there are more layers and contours surfacing

continuously everyday

and the history of that making

is often hidden, unread

That which is unsaid in all that was said

that which lurks like an accompanying introvert friend

not saying anything but taking those hidden mental notes

That which we somehow learn to protect fiercely

from judgements or mere perception, we hide it slyly 

sometimes it is because no one cares

and then we get so used to this layering

at other times we are so unsure of acceptance

we work on our presentation skills and stifle that voice that pleads for sharing

but secretly we are all wishing for a peeler

that could ever so gently unveil

and some parts of ourselves from ourselves steal 

and then simplify contemplate and explain

the reason for that innate passion or that confusing season of pain

we hide behind these layers

seeking perfection in this bottled up mode

We care more for that outer papery wrapper

while shutting down the inner abode 

We need one to validate, to understand

to unearth why we are, the way we are

to smile at a guilty pleasure and wince in pain over that old scar

These trifle things,

these experiences that I accumulated

somewhere through a metamorphosis,

into an inseparable part of me, they assimilated

To read me, to really know me, to judge me even a bit

you will need to see the non-conforming, the non-average parts that do not fit

a little layer by layer

with an infinite understanding and all the care

that is how you deal with an onion

when you really cry its tears

carefully reading the memories each layer bears

sharing impressions, being careful not to hurt

Delicately releasing flavor buried deep in the dirt

It is not a mere task or a chore

It is a discovery, like reading a book that hasn't been read before

We all have zoomed out versions that do not reveal

And here you need to deal with lots of onion peel 

There is something sacred about valuing another soul,

Just simple recognition for every little bit and a sincere desire to understand the whole

It is not easy but try to be a healer

Offer the opportunity for a catharsis,

When you find you are an onion-peeler ....

The onion-peeler