To use a pop culture reference, I am an onion.

Peeling back my layers and layers of layers will only make you cry- and in the end, what are you left with, really? What are you looking for? You've peeled back all of these layers and you'll find nothing. (All that effort gone to waste. Tut tut tut.)

Nothing of use, or worth, anyway.

Is this self-defense then? Do the tears an onion coax out of you as you  skin it and peel back its layers serve as a form of self-defense? One last bid, one last effort to try and stop you from baring it naked? A defense mechanism of nature's finest ingenuity?

Let's count the ways I need therapy.

Let's start with the demons that slither across your bed and grapple with your ears before sliding in your brain in the black of the night.

Let's not.