Me.

She likes the smell of stale air.
It reminds her of herself.

She likes the look of periods.
And cut short,
little,
sentences.
The long ones bask out for muchtoomanyforevers,
and then,
then,
then...

Although it's not expected,
she can't but help
to find her self
writing,
scribbling,
plotting,
these muchtoomanyforevers.
All filled with ridiculous commas.
Commas.
Another thing she hates.

Perhaps she writes long, so that she,
can cast herself in their own lengthy shadows.
So that she can become important.

She likes the look of mirrors.
They remind her of herself.