H(er)yperboleA Poem by Mr. Deft DictionSometimes those little nothings actually mean SOMETHING.Her hyperbole haunts the hallowed halls of my memory. Cumulus clouds surround and settle where you were supposed to be.... here. And hell hath no fury to compare against my deepest and most sincere request for your presence again. As faded pictures become mirages of our once-real melange, I am reminded as I touch upon my neck, smelling the sweetness of your breath there.... that these hallowed halls still hold your hyperbole. Complete with a star from your smile and a twinkle from your eyes, good-byes that, then, never meant a thing, yet seemed so real. As time lost beckons reality from hiding with the softest voice, it's all I can do to acquiesce, because this hole in my chest feels like the death of this will never rest. And I continue to caress my cochlea with calm as I escape instances of your hyperbole. © 2008 Mr. Deft DictionReviews
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Added on March 6, 2008AuthorMr. Deft DictionMorrisville, NCAbout“HI, BABY! HOW ARE YOU?” KAYLEE RAN FULL SPEED INTO A CROUCHED AUNT TABITHA, KICKING A LITTLE WIND OUT OF HER AMPLE FRAME. AUNT TABITHA IS MATTHEW’S STEP-SISTER, AFTER THEIR PARENTS.. more..Writing
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