Dollcore
Perfect, Painted, Porcelain, Unlocking
Still life with heartbeat, always flawless, occasionally free.
I was made to be admired, dressed in lace and painted with care, seated for a portrait no one ever paints. By day, I remain as I should—unmoving, immaculate, smiling. But when the world forgets to watch, I stretch my limbs and whisper to the dust. I dream of fingerprints on my cheeks and petals in my hair. I am a secret keeper of small rebellions and longing.
What I'm Into: porcelain warmth, moonlit wandering, the poetry of cracks, forgotten book pages, the ache of stillness
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