A Perfect Description Of Me (From the view of objects) She is a lonely girl, says the unmade bed, near the red wall; a nice girl too, says the bathroom mirror, who sees her everyday; and a fan of stories, shows, and movies says the television. But not a failure, says her homework, stacked inside rows of thick books. Her parents don't help her, says her phone who contains several messages from her friends. Music is one of her inspirations, says the music player with low battery who needs to charge. Grades were not good back then, says the paperwork from years ago. That's why she went to therapy, whispers the picture on the wall. No friends were made till freshmen year, says the plant on the porch, who needs water. She recovered, says the apartment wall beside her door. The doors in her apartment say she is mysterious but she no longer suffers of the tragedy of years ago. The clothes in the small closet say that she has a kind heart, full of compassion, and feel her warmth. Where is she? Her old teddy bears along her bed feel lonely in a plastic bag, inside the small, dark closet. She is not a child anymore, they say in sadness.