She appears before me once more,
The coldest figure of my thoughts,
The type to always turn their back,
To leave you alone without sanity.
Through my lens she is different,
The type you always wanted,
Her true self nowhere to be seen,
Her smile bringing out the beauty she cannot keep.
She lives in a split universe,
Once consumed by her wretched personality,
The other a sacrifice to ART,
To become a portrait of falsehood.
Her motives are unknown,
I don't understand her presence,
She shifts into different forms,
And never allows for permanent change.
When the lens comes down she is a dead stare,
Lights up a cigarette,
Intertwines with the ashes,
Becoming the smoke she exhales.
Vanishing from existence.