concealed

I struggled whether to tell what the inspiration was behind this poem, but I don't want to take away from the possibility of it being meaningful to another situation. I'm considering this unfinished for now, because I may add a more happy refrain, or not. We'll see.

concealed
Alone, ignored,
the pains of this world ravage my heart;
Unknown, veiled,
behind this satin cover of dishonesty,
the wounds fester and ooze.

The others smell the stench of death upon me,
as do I,
but instead they perfume and mask death,
as do I.
Maybe the perfume will remove the disease,
And if not, at least I will not offend.

But death has consumed me through ignorance;
And now I no longer smell the perfume.