I have transformed,
from unreadable green eyes,
to big blues like the sky.

She is me,
but I am not her.
The fake blonde hair,
to the wavy ponytails;
I am only her for the time being.

The long lashes like a doll, unnatural to me,
but for this occasion it's the exception.
I am all dolled up,
ready for the midnight crowd's hungry eyes.

I pretend to be her blindly,
the lioness with the res face,
lying, decieving, enjoying the attention;
the scarlet cat burglar, stealing precious things.

I stand next to him.
The fake boy, my partner in crime;
he is the main part of this play,
while I just stand there,
on the sidelines,
the side character in this game.

Who am I really?
Only God and a few know.
The small glimpses only give them so much.
They will just have to wait,
like an eager child for an allowance,
an allowance of me;
they hunger for more.

They only have known me for two months,
two minutes,
and fifty-one seconds.
Those fools,
do they really know me?

I am her blindly,
the red veil is still over my eyes,
but for the time being,
let's just pretend that I am her.