I'm Not Perfect

There's a girl behind these crying eyes,
And she's tired of your worn out lies.
She holds, she grips and she tries to find,
a way to win this gruesome fight.
With every lie, inside she dies,
and every day she always tries.
To slip away from your grip less hold,
to break away, before you take her soul.
You've already made her miserable,
help her by letting her go.
And that way,
she will know.
She doesn't have to fit your mold.