Substitutes

He took off the Metallica shirt you took off so many times,
He kissed me in places you’d never traveled,
He sang me songs of his own heart break,
He watched me while I avoided his eyes,
Eyes that can’t ever be yours,
Stolen glances now and then,
Quickly repressed feelings,
We try to fill a void that has been left in our souls,
But we keep a distance that must be kept,
We are not sinners;
We are scraps in the same gutter,
Waiting for a flood to wash us away.

Exactly! Rebound substitutes... place-holders for empty hearts, corks to plug the bleeding wounds left there.

I love how you expressed this, Manders; as always, you say so much in so few words, truly making every word tell.

Good to see you here, and thanks for sharing this wise poem. Wisdom comes hard, doesn't it? Through pain when it comes to matters of the heart. Yet it gives rise to good art, and to the knowledge of what to avoid in the future (even if we do not avoid it... we are only human, after all).

Respect and solidarity, Manders Flanders, my friend and fellow poet!

Love,

+Stevie

Thank You Stevie! Wisdom in matters of the heart does indeed come hard. But what takes real guts, is to take the lessons and throw them out of the window. You have to learn to accept the pain as many times as it comes, or you will never move on and that is the real challenge; jumping again when you've already been scattered on the rocks.

You're right, Mandy, and you show that hard-won wisdom in what you say; as terrifying as it is, it is nonetheless--indeed, all the more--true: love (like life itself) is a risk, but a risk worth taking, a risk we must take as humans.

Thanks for your insight!

Respect and solidarity,

+Stevie

So true Mandy.
Bravo!

Thanx Josie!