Stranger to Me

The stranger boldly grins,
And looks at me with a flicker in her eyes.
She waves her jeweled hands,
As she flamboyantly speaks.
She narrates tales of adventures,
Of riches that she owns.
Of castles in the sky.
Of servants at her beck and call.
But she is living a lie.
She is being eaten away,
By a sickness that affects not the body,
But a sickness that defects the soul.
She has two faces: A beauty queen,
And a magician.
She lives two lives: A life of theatre,
And a life of crime.
She squanders wealth,
That is not her own.
She has a name,
That she ruthlessly disowns.
Guard your possessions,
Your purse. Your house. Your man.
From her prying hands.
Here one moment, gone the next.
I stare at the girl in the mirror,
I know her,
Like I know myself.
Yet, she is a stranger to me.