(was i the one who stopped time or was that the girl before me?
was i the one who donated a thousand butterflies to your insides or was that the girl before me?)

was i the one who sowed the sun into your eyes or did the girl before me have more skillful hands?

(was i the one who buried your grief, your pain, your hopelessness, or did the girl before me dig deeper?)

  was i the one who swallowed your sadness to the pit of my stomach and kept it there or did the girl
before me swallow an ocean?

(was i the one who made your thoughts come alive in the night or was the girl before me a better playwright than i?)

was i the glittery diamond that caught your eye amongst the rubble or did the girl before
me have a sparklier dress?

(was i the one who healed your aching heart or did the girl before me have more tender hands, a soothing voice and a better elixir?)

was i the one who you wanted to heal so desperately or did the girl before me shatter into more
pieces than you could carry?

(were my arms the place you called "home" or were the girl before me's arms more delicate yet able to hold you closer to her heart?)

was i the one who set your heart on fire or was the girl before me a more reckless arsonist?

(was i the one who placed your head in the clouds or was the girl before me already a haven?)

was i the one who taught you what hell felt like or did the girl before me have the hands
of the devil?

(was i the one who unfolded the meaning of life to you or was the girl before me a better philosopher?)

was i the one who taught you how terrible death is or did the girl before me's suicide note
have more tragic poetry?

(was i the one who made your voice sore from screaming for me to come back to you or was the girl before me more desirable?)

was i the one who made your hands shake or was the girl before me a little less of a hurricane
and more of an earthquake?

(was i the one who shattered your soul on the marble floor or was the girl before me's strength more tempting to give in to?)

was i the one who left bloodstains on your carpet or did the girl before me have lipstick that
was quite a convincing red?

(were you glad your nightmares stopped with me or did you secretly enjoy them because they reminded me of the wild nights you shared with her?)

(G.S. )                                                                                                                                                                                                                    (N.N.)

can i get drunk on your absence is that a legitimate excuse for silly love poems that make me want to turn our bedsheets into a noose is it a legitimate excuse for an i love you

this is neither the parting of seas nor the creation of islands

this is neither a blink nor a fever-induced sleep

this is neither the cry of a lover nor the weep of a sinner and trust me, they're both going to pray at some point.

this is the halfway mark of a poet who's running out of things she can and  cannot say.

empty journals are white flags.

never mistake the spilled blood of a lover in a glass vial to be red wine.

i had the same song on replay as i walked around boston - the same sad song that had you saying goodnight  moon - and i think these lyrics have started to settle in my bloodstream, i'm pretty certain they don't want to leave - you would know how great it feels to call my veins home.

if only i could get on a big  jet  plane on autopilot; i'm pretty sure it's the only thing that can lead me to what i truly call home.  and i'd have that same song blasting throughout the plane.

except i don't think i call anything anywhere home, so i would be on that plane until my teeth and my fingertips turn yellow.