onion II

what’s inside is history repeating.

soon enough this concentricity will reach its end.

as with all things, an end is inevitable.

though i knew, i still let myself be taken in… again, and again. and again.

and each time i shed off a layer, my defenses grow weaker.

though i feel the sting, i go on revealing a deeper part of me.

until i am painfully dry. stripped… spent… sore.

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