Mess.

Feels like I've been burned alive,
It's not like I haven't tried,
To end this sorry mess of mine,
I can't say that I was fine.

Smiling to the mirror's disguise,
Can't even see through my own eyes,
Blinded by what other's see,
And not what I try hard to be.

They could tell you I've told lies,
Beat me between precious sighs,
I deserve whatever I get,
I can't be upset if this is it.

I guess I should have guarded me,
But all I wanted was to be free.