Love of sad stories

She kept her happiness, but pain burst out of her like a roaring stream.

She couldn't write cheerful things. Not even when she was happy, but at least she was content. Humor turned into scratches, into satire under her hand, although in her mind the smiling words still flew beautifully, carefree, only by the time she wrote them down, they became defiant, world-mocking fragments.

[Inspired by "I know I'm happy, but I just don't feel it." - Ákos Fodor]