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I am a city of two different weathers: a hidden smile with a rocking heart. Am I the only one with a secret? Am I the only one with a quiet face and a restless pulse? Am I the only one—or am I the only one with the courage to face it? The heart is swaying like a rusted swing, and the porcelain smile is a mask that never will chip. But porcelain doesn’t bend—it only breaks, and the swing is gaining weight with every breath I take. One is a monument, the other is a storm. I am a masterpiece of holding it together.
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Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 8:41 AM UTC
The masterpiece
I am a city of two different weathers: a hidden smile with a rocking heart. Am I the only one with a secret? Am I the only one with a quiet face and a restless pulse? Am I the only one—or am I the only one with the courage to face it? The heart is swaying like a rusted swing, and the porcelain smile is a mask that never will chip. But porcelain doesn’t bend—it only breaks, and the swing is gaining weight with every breath I take. One is a monument, the other is a storm. I am a masterpiece of holding it together.
The cost of a perfect exterior is an interior that never stops swinging. Dedicated to the architects of beautiful lies
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Feb 15
Feb 15, 2026 at 8:41 AM UTC
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