The tools of my young creative mind are gone.
I miss the times when other people didn't matter, the times where people didn't tell me I had to color inside the lines. I miss the times when I could make my own lines, I could create whatever I wanted and everyone would at least pretend to love it. I would draw and draw till my crayons would become nothing but little stubs of colored wax that my little fingers could barely hold onto. These little stubs that I treasured with all my heart. The little stubs that no matter how impossible they were to use I would never let go of them because they were a part of me.
But now they are gone....
Where did they go?
They have been taken,
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