Perfect...

I'm not perfect... please don't criticise my every imperfectness... It's so tiring for me to try to be perfect... The more i try, the more defects i have... I'm so tired...' Am I myself?' i wondered... My self has been lost a long time ago... Can i get some rest? Where is the simple and sweet happiness i used to have... My every word is a torture... Changing is so tiring, though the change does not tire... No praises to my perfect side,but lots of arrows throwing themselves at my scars... Will it ever stop? What's the use of been a model to the others, your own happiness sacrificed... I really need some rest, the benchmark is suffocating me... Nothing is ideal...can you accept me as who i am? Do i not shine my own light now?