my box

I have a box like Pandora's

where my emotions are kept,

obscured, 

hidden, 

that even I, sometimes, can't find 

when my eyes demand tears 

or when my lips decide to smile 

no matter how and where I look 

somehow it fails to appear. 

especially when it's needed 

when I should be bleeding, 

laughing, 

crying, 

and dancing. 

People would snicker 

on how I'm incapable of managing a tiny box 

so small 

I can hold onto my palms 

I can hang it on my neck 

I can put it on my sleeves.

What they don't understand is, 

I can't find the key