Here is the shocking wreck of it all. Here is how you were closer to me than my bones, my skin. Here is the quiet city, your empty side of the bed. Here is the empty. Here is not knowing whether you loved me or not. Here is the poem that can’t save us. Here.
—Kristina H., “On Missing You”
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timetravelandrocketpoweredapes:
Superhero Media Crossovers by Butcher Billy
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