As the water touches my skin, I begin to wash away all of my, my layers.
The part of me I didn't want the world to see now can be even more, even more, more clear,
I'm no longer an old-time movie, you can see all of my, all of my true colours,
The clothes I wear couldn't change my identity, the tags didn't even say '!!!BUYER BEWARE!!!'

It never saw itself as much,
             a rough coat...
  but underneath that where
             its true potential lay.

But when It looked deeper
          all it saw was conflicting layers.
    Then the unthinkable, others saw
his uses but he just cut into himself.


Tears feel as the feeling of unworthiness
             was cut away as layers fell..
but this was like every other
                     onion depressed at its worth.

but everything is special in another's eyes,
     Were all like a onion, layers of dignity.
But even though we don't see it,
      We all have a worth, were layers of an onion..

Why do your weaknesses elude me;
my black magnets
keep you at a distance
because
you're facing their
repelling poles

your hair strands are currents,
thoughts;
mind of their own,
tentacles
gesturing hypnosis...
who are they;
what are we,
but extensions,
body parts,
extremities,
intentions,
of a hive mind
unidentified

but I’ll walk these narrow bridges,
shifting as they are,
these catwalks,
hanging ledges,
and breach I will
the curtains of your
ink-spilled masquerade
to taste the sweet and salty
that you’ve saved for me

and you will know
in the contours that hold me,
the right substance
beneath telltale textures
of requited sensation

and we won't fathom the bonds
but touch what they bind us into
smearing the need for questions

You say I'm running from myself
I guess you're right
Maybe I am
All I know is that the reason
I hear my heartbeat so clearly
Is because my chest is hollow

I am made up of layers
Too many layers
As if my skin
Was preparing to survive
Out in dead winter at the South Pole

I'm annoying
  I'm distrustful

    I'm stubborn
       And I'm doubtful

           And secretive

Maybe downright manipulative

   But most of all I'm exhausted

Exhausted of the nothingness
   That I float around in
Exhausted of everything
  That comes and goes
    Ensuring chaos
Exhausted of everything and nothing
  And all things in between
         Exhausted of
                     **living

Peeling away layer by layer, I'm slowly becoming whole.
Wrapper after wrapper- will someone eat my candy heart when there's nothing left to hide it?
I'm so exposed, so open; the breeze wafts between layers, shaking them loose, and they waft to the ground like leaves.
Will this edifice be strong enough to stand on its own?
Built out of feeble candy cigarettes and held together by pink bubble gum, it's already been chewed up and spit out, more wrappings being formed to protect its' already collapsing structure.
Will it survive?
Will I survive?
**Chomp.

Clear layers on my eye
each possess a soul that
once lived exposed, just to die
the blood of the layer
attracted to guilt,
left the layers soul
to crumble and drift

each layer, gone, in a blink
they vanish, to the past
to a place where the life
we used to live cannot be unseen

now you have nothing
but a naked eye
exposed, just to die
now you have nothing
but a naked eye
that lived layers of a lie

-Kaya

i love onions.
onions are great,
who doesn’t love onions?
they’re useful for everything
for improving the state of cuisine,
they make everything better.

when i think of onions,
i think of their ability to change life’s point of view
i think of a turning page.

after searching the market,
i found the perfect onion.
with perfect, glistening skin,
endless interesting layers,
and the taste
i knew
was unforgettable.

i tried to preserve you.
with every slice to your skin,
i’d wrap you back up.
place you in a drawer.
hide you away,
my secret.

eventually, i had to face reality.
you can’t preserve something
that was meant to perish.
your glistening skin was tarnished with scars.
your once deep layers revealed themselves…
shallow.
your “spice of life” flavor,
guess what?
it’s rotten.

now, when i think of an onion
i think of its ability to make me cry.
i think of its foul taste
that leaves regret in my mouth.

i hate onions
and all they stand for.

you’re not useful,
you’re worthless.

who wants the taste of dirt in their mouth?

you don’t make anything better.
you make things worse.
you made me worse.

i’m better off without onions.
i hate them.
i prefer broccoli anyways.

But every night I fall into
Sleepstained dreaming
And with every hour
Another layer falls off of me
One made of strength
One of resistance
I am undressed as the sun chases the moon back
Into another illuminated day
One made of fear
One of identity
I don't know whether losing them
Feels lighter or more heavy
The truth presses on me now
And it's impossible to ignore
One made of hope
One of idealism

I am naked
My cold skin is unprotected
If there is sun, I can see
When it rains, I weep
But I find every morning
That if there is silence
And my layers aren't there to mask
I am darkness
Pure darkness
Waiting for dawn to come