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Bellezza

Bellezza's picture A little hole in my heart, growing deeper black day by day. A little larger with every passing second. It's an ache, a want, a need. A sweetly painful feeling, like the smell of week-old death. It's a burning, ice cold earthquake of lightning pulsing with every beat. Seering my veins and ripping them anew. It's love, darling, and it hurts.




AIM: IMJenn523
Bellezza's Works
Poetry 09/08/2005 
Poetry 09/10/2005 
Poetry 09/12/2005 
Poetry 09/14/2005 
Poetry 09/16/2005 
Poetry 09/20/2005 
Short Story 10/04/2005 
Poetry 10/20/2005 


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