Desaturation of a Soul

i let his eyes in
i let them see in

eyes are the window to the soul

he said my eyes could see his soul

can he see mine?

can he see it turning grey from
his constant torture?

it was red with passion
it was green with life
it was a blinding white yellow with sunlight

and now his words desaturate

i feel it fade
and empty

he was my smile

and now
there's no strength for even a frown

should i have kept my eyes boarded up?
if eyes are the window to the soul...
where's the door?