The hidden things are the lip biting and the tooth clenching to try and keep them all hidden.
When I grab my own wrist, and hold down backspace so I don't type that.
I don't hit enter.
Ever.
Sometimes the lid cracks and all of them look out and up at the world, and some escape.
Like Pandora's box, releasing all the feelings in to the carefully sterile world.
Sure it'd be great, and things would be free and there would be release and colour.
But not all the colour would be good, and some of the most important colours would be off.
So I'm going to keep sitting here, holding the box closed with my weight.
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