I'm not ghastly to behold, but if you only knew the truth about me.
My soul coughs up ashes, and nothing grows in the soil of my heart.
My blood is full of sand spurs, and earthworms burrow through my bones.
Just take My word for it. I'm rotten to the core.

The light of my smile shatters windows, and further blinds the blind.
The sound of the brightness deafens the sharpest of ears.
My innermost caverns leak with stagnant muck,
but the truth about me is, I'm emotionally bankrupt. Destitute.

I speak like a daffodil, playful in the breeze, and I tread softly,
but don't be mistaken.

I'm a nasty beast.