I want her to be mine.

The woman is an imposter, she smiles, she is beautiful, but she is not my mother. But there is something about her, she's so similar to my mother, I can't hate her. There's something that keeps me lingering by her door, something that beckons me to be so bold as to open it. I want to be by her. I want her to hold me. I want her to kiss me. I want to feel comforted. I want her to be mine.