Untitled

Sometimes I have to wonder
If I'm even fooling me.
I still can't decide if I want to hide
Or if I would rather you see.
Or could it be that you already see,
And I'm the one that's blind?
Maybe I'm transparent,
And you can read my troubled mind.
Is my heart still hidden,
Or can you read me like a book?
Are my secrets still my secrets,
Or are they there for all to look?