noan3105

'You find yourself creative?' she asks one day 'Yes', I answer She just shrugs and laughs silently She doesn't thinks so Almost a year later I ask her What did you do before, for fun? She thinks and with an almost melancholic look, says 'I used to love designing dresses' 'Why did you stop then?' She just shrugs It takes another year before I find them All those drawings, beautifully made I still wonder what went wrong But deep down i know She's tells me one day a family gathering I believe Her childhood was horrible Though thats not how she puts it Later i hear she told the same to her psychologist Yet all I can think about Is how, after al