Somewhere in the past
A distant one
She chose to don
A veil of darkness
Hoping to hide
Behind its opaqueness
All her secrets
Vile, shameful, and dark.

She held it tight
Around her
As she walked,
And even as she lay
On her bed
On the darkest night,
Until her secrets
Were lost,
Not just to the world,
But to her as well.

Secrets have a way
Of tumbling out,
Like the skeleton
In the proverbial closet;
Perchance it was
A gust of wind,
Or even that
She had a lapse
In her attention
To detail,
And she let it slip,
Ever so slightly,
And it began to show,
The shame – the utter shame,
That hid beneath.

She tried hard
To grab
At the flying garb,
To hold it around her,
Wrapped tight.

But that which had
Been once revealed,
Could no longer be unseen.

So there she stood,
As alone, as she ever had been,
No garb to hide behind,
Exposed, her hair flying wild,
All over her head,
Lowered to the ground.