The hue of green in my eyes hides the darkness below,
But my charming smile distracts best.
I'm not as soft as my skin feels,
Or as tough as my morning voice sounds.
I do my best convincing underneath a mask.

I am weaker than my words.
A combination of 26 little letters,
Teeny.
Tiny.
Letters.
With teeny, tiny sounds.
Am I, too, as belittled as I've made these letters out to be?
Am I, too, as shallow as the phrases that leave my mouth?

Is it my insecurity that brings out the glow of my eyes?
My need for love burning through,
Lighting everything it sees aflame
But turning only hearts to ash.
Am I as dim as they are now,
Full, but nothing of light?

Perhaps I am only that-
Only good for a metaphor,
But worthless to reality.

I am the boy who broke her.