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Thursday, January 10, 2013

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

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