She was never here, her mind traveled the world, whispered the outdated, exquisite photograph that laid on the white satin bed sheet.
She was an adventurer and time was neither a friend nor enemy, says the worn shoes by the broken timekeeper.
She was obsessed with the color blue
because it reminder her of the midnight tide that crashed upon the sand, says
the blue satin ribbon above the perfectly placed daffodils.
She was a fearless soul in a world of dull, says the vivid, audacious speaker that stayed behind a underlying lamp.
She held on to the memories of the past to reminder her of who she used to be, says the box of handwritten letter inside the pink wrapped box.
She always looked through the looking glass for her foolproof reality, says the yellow polaroid camera on top of the precisely designed table cloth.
She was afraid to let go, she always took two steps forward and one step back, says the collage of photos that were scattered on top of each other.
She was a collector of many things says the white Q doorknob attached onto the white splintered door.
She was an elegant and fragile soul on the inside hidden by her wild ego, says the wound up dancer on top of the frilled bedspread.
She paid attention to structure and was a perfectionist says the studded chair by the rim of hand-crafted molding.
She tried to wash away her imperfections but her flaws could never be covered, says the vial of purity placed by the scraped marble.
She feared darkness but was always the light, says the grey whale stationed by the grey bench.
She loved herself the way she could only be, says the mirror on the wall in front of the humdrum grey wall.