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joshhutchercat:

my heart says yes but my mom says no

"Sometimes,
when we’re alone at home,
fixing dinner, you’ll pretend
to wince when you cut yourself,
and I find myself hoping
that the tiniest drop of blood
will bloom on your finger."

- A poem from the perspective of Lois Lane speaking of Clark Kent. /// From the poetry book: Missing You, Metropolis by Gary Jackson (via reemerge)
likewildlife:

Purple hair.
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