Sculpt a life of artifice and foreign daydreams, Your face is not πΊπ°πΆπ³ face, it belongs to the prying, dissecting eyes, That scan, breaths held, for flaws to feed on, to tear down, To devour You, the idol to their envious altar. ...
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8/29/2026 3:02:03 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3