Air Bubbles And Paper Cuts

Eyes

My eyes lie to me.
I now can never tell what's real
Or fake.
Kind of like my smile.
My mind asks itself,
What's reality?
For I have no intention of
Believing my lying eyes
No more.
I'll see things;
That aren't there.
The guilt is eating me alive.
You thought by looking
Into my mind, you'd find the truth.
I'm braindead.
Can't you see that when you died,
I died with you?
The path I've chosen,
Is looking short lived.
I wear glasses, so I can see.
But either way;
My eyes see things that aren't
Really there.
So what's the point of wearing them?