Under the surface, waiting.

I look over the dark body of water
The way the moon ripples over it.
A black mirror, but every so often small wrinkles appear and cross over the moon
Making the moon quiver and weaken.
I hear distant laughter come across the water,
My eyes meet with a young couple, holding hands
I quickly avert my eyes,
A feeling of intrusion arises inside me,
The cool, dry moss provides a quick escape from what I do not understand.
The rock I am seated on sends a cold feeling up my spine
I pull my clothes close to my centre
The truth begins to rise up into my throat  
I push them away, I cannot bear my thoughts.
It’s getting darker and colder now.
I look back to the couple; they are on a bench,
They are smiling at each other
My eyes start to swell.
I know I cannot comprehend their feeling.
I try, but when I do I feel inadequate
My soul cries out for me to be true to myself
But I will not listen. I can never listen.
My body weakens and shivers
I cannot reflect how I feel.
I push the idea out of my head and force it away.
I rise up from the rock that is wet and dry at the same time.
I take one last glance at the couple they are holding hands.
I know one day I may be able to feel the beauty of what is love,
But until then I must stay just under the surface
Under the black mirror, in the cold darkness.