[Poem] Untitled

They say she never laughs, but I can see her eyes smile when her lips would never curl.
Even as she cries, those eyes hold joy. Her sorrow can’t drown the secret she hides from those who do not seek it.
Her gates, which have been barred, imprisoned her emotions, in captivity building up, but never could burst open.
Numb, yet unbroken; rage nor sorrow woken; love, desire never spoken; joy and laughter only token.
Now gates’ key has been discovered, opening wide and free; emotions old and new flooding out and covering her, drowning her with their weight.
Now, she enjoys her hatred and loves her sorrow, feeling bliss when the tears roll down her cheeks, and I never see her lips curl, but her eyes, no lies they speak. 

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