Anxious...
Hardly describes the feeling,
Waiting by the sideline, waiting for your train,
Waiting for what feels like a thousand years,
And drives me past insane.
Anxious is the feeling, that now has merged with my soul,
Hating the waiting, and idly creating things to pass the time while you aren't there.
Why must it be, oh where are you now?
And are you thinking of me?
Because at this moment, of sweet pained anticipation,
You're the only thing that seems to be on my mind.
In retrospect, I didn't expect to feel quite like I do,
To fidget with my watch like so, see it's a nervous tick I have.
But I assume you know, even though you didn't realize,
Oh why has the moment of our next meeting, become a diamond in my eyes?
In the rough, in the wait-ing state that I lie!
I want to scream, I want to cry, and tell you what I feel,
That, and I haven't the faintest why, you are beyond missed,
And why it hits me now, like a bullet, like a fist!
Anxious... not fitting, but close enough I guess.
But it's alright, really so, and I'll smile and bit my lip,
Until your train pulls up to the platform, and the doors open,
Then I see your smiling face, a look that will erase,
This need for you. This craving for your presence, 
But until then, I will wait, and I will want...
Anxious... for you.