I am ready
I am waiting...

still.

I can say I'm not a patient person
and I know that you'd believe me.
I can say that I'd wait for you
and I hope that you would too.

You'll be with me soon
and my skin will tingle in anticipation
Our meeting will be like our first
but so very different.

I'll wait for now
and just make do with
excited outbursts

I love you.
I don't know how
and I don't know why.
I barely know you really.
I met you only so briefly.

Yet you resonated with me.
You, above anyone else, still occupy my thoughts.
You are the one I dream about.

Do I love you really?
I've only known you a short while
Most of that time we've lived separate lives
Seen other people
So do I love you really?
Am I just loving an idea of what we could be?
I don't know
How could I?
You don't really give me much to go on.
One minute you talk of the future
the next, you don't talk of much
and you hardly ever talk about how you feel.

So I am conflicted.
I know I feel very strongly for you
and yet I cannot make the decision of how I feel
when you give me nothing.

If this doesn't scare you away
I suppose we may just have what it takes
to find out if we love each other.

Every time your name pops up
I get a little excited.
Every time you have to go
I feel a little slighted.

I know you have to go
you have things you need to do.
You are a busy man, I know
and I know you miss me too.

Imagine how I feel.
Wishing I had something,
anything,
to keep me occupied.
I can't help but think about you all the time
and wish that you were mine.

I don't know you all that well
and yet I want us to grow...
It scares me to leave my heart so open
I don't want you to go.

I want to see your name pop up
with a message that says,
"I'll be home in 10".
Home.
I wish I was your home.

I'm sure you could read passages from me
as easy as you read passages from a book.
I'm a picture book to you
and you are a novel to me.

How is it you are so versed in my thoughts
and yet you cannot recite your own?
Why can't you read me a page
from your inner monologue?

I would sing you my soul
to hear a line from your pages.
I would write you an essay
if it might unlock those cages.

Do you long to tell me just how you feel?
Is it festering inside, just waiting to unwind?
Are you afraid to admit, are you afraid you will reel?
I'm telling you now, all I will be is kind.

If not, that is fine.
You can stay a closed book.
Just make sure you close mine,
and put back what you took.

To be anonymous
To be a shadow
To be or not to be
that is me.

To write what's inside
as plain as day on page
not between the lines,
and it's not a crime.

Oh, to be anonymous
is to be free.
Oh, to be anonymous
is to share what is me.
Oh, to me anonymous
means that you'll never see.