Onionskins

I’ve worn my words thin
Used them just enough to make me sick
But against my perceived inadequacies
I’ll wear them out again
Because by now I think I can hope
Each new mordant acquisition soon
Buries itself in my heart until
I can feel at my best
Beneath my warped and woven threads of
Association

_________
For me, in a sense, a lot of outer layers were symbolically removed at the time of my accident. My clothes were cut away from my body and with it a lot of personal expression seemed to disappear. The process must have really begun with my illness which must have mentally ripped away a lot of misconceptions by inflating them to such a degree that they imploded- something like the black hole which ended up sucking what would essentially be the rest of my life through.

I had imagined that it was a sort of exercise of the will and that I had now the power to choose everything I wished to believe; only the deepest rooted ideas about who I was would remain. So when my glasses were lost during my fall, my impression was that unfortunately my sense of seeing had been hardwired by now to require a visual aid. The same for the insulin and the idea that I had a defective pancreas persisted strongly enough as did the injuries I sustained during the fall (for the most part I must assume).

So having been stripped like that, what was there of an outer layer to assume to be key to my identity? I remember rebuilding my language but I might suppose that when water runs out of a series of channels in the dry season, the courses it chooses as the rain begins to fall and the surface needs to drain again will be mordant with remembered streams. Not the same water, but a similar river of words and phrases make up my identity I guess.

It is as if the air we process is chewed up in a particular pattern as it passes our teeth and fine nostril hairs as a human being. I still retain a basic urge to speak out about my experience, to understand myself better if not humanity as a whole. So I guess this constitutes my layers, of which the outermost will be my words, as that is what is most evident here right?

I guess my curious introspection bleeds through in my behaviour to most outer layers and probably surfaces in how and what I write. Whatever does bubble up I would hope to be content worth examining, so in honour of this weeks prompt I am including a few words that came to me today.

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