I have never met you
And yet I keep writing about you
Maybe I hope to meet you someday
Sometimes I wonder do you actually even exist?
Are people like you still out there?
People who genuinely love and care
People who don't judge
People who are quite selfless
People who are patient
People who are ready to listen
But then again when I don't possess those qualities myself..
...its wrong and hypocritical of me to expect that from someone else

Some days I have nightmares
Sometimes I can't sleep
At times I feel depressed
But I have no complaints
Everyday is a new day
The sun comes up
The sun goes down
It's just that it's the same old me
I wake up..somehow get through the day..and then retire to my bed
And it's the same old world
The same noises
The same violence
The same racism
The same anxiety
The same negative thoughts
The same broken hopes and dreams
The same messed up city
I hope things change
Though sometimes I think I'm a fool for having hopes

We were always focused on anatomy
And never really worked on our chemistry
I guess that's why now we are history

A pen and paper is all I need to get me through the day
An array of emotions
A barrage of questions
An assortment of thoughts
All poured out on those pages
Sometimes tears fills those pages
Sometimes those pages meet bins
Sometimes they're greeted with a smile
Whatever be the day..
Whatever be my state of mind..
A day without writing something just doesn't feel right
The turmoil and euphoria that goes on in my heart and head..
The ideas and the imagination that run through my mind...
...i just need to pen it down
Sometimes I think I could keep writing till my dying day...
During my final moments I'd  probably be...
Hairless
Toothless
Perhaps with limited vision
And I'd still keep scribbling something on those pages....

We meet everyday
And yet you seem like a stranger to me
Sometimes I wonder.. Are you the same person?
Or have I changed?

Sometimes people don't need advice
They just need an eager and patient ear