waiting for the train.

Standing on the cement platform, anxiously awaiting the coming headlights gliding down seventh avenue.
As the train nears the station, a million little emotions course through my veins.
I feel nervous, calm and ignorant at all once. My palms get sweaty, and cotton mouth sets in.
The thumping of my heart, deafening. My collar starts to feel tighter and it gets a little harder to breathe.
I step back from the yellow line, just as it arrives, and cars full of poems disguised as people rush past my nose.
The doors open, I feel your lips against mine-and the anxiety ceases, you board the train.
How I envy your ignorance, I hear that it's bliss.