I always collect notebooks,
even though I don't know what to do with them.
Maybe because I'm saving it
for later use,
or I'm just waiting for another course
of inspiration, ideas,
new set of fresh words
from my mind.
Papers to catch my spit.
Or maybe because,
they were waiting for the perfect moment
of my life
to be scarred for.
A poem I am yet to write.
A story I am yet to tell.
A person I am yet to meet.
