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Esther Oct 27
you blocked me on social media
i blocked you in my heart.
nja Jan 2019
Cubism an ugly distortion, criticised in comparison to fine art. Look at those shameful, jagged and unpolished edges. But no, change your perspective. These deviations are the very building blocks that allow us to tower over those who once marginalised difference. Those who rejected the ‘other’, for fear of refracting their own reflections in the opposition. Inevitably they’re left face to face with the ‘ugly’ perceived in here.
My first art was painting. She has been my mistress for years now. This is me exploring how the new and modern is always rejected by the norm and traditionalists. Cubism comes to represent discrimination in society of 'the other', those who are different in us/them.
Mystic Ink Plus Jul 2018
There was a writer
Who once said
Let me write about you

He tried to weight
Pious
Kind
Connected words

Seem
Less appropriate
To describe her

He knew noble respect
She deserves

She is different
She is special
She is disciplined

Without wings, she is an Angel
She is from the outer world
With a newer height

She is the answer
The lifeline
The key

Being blocked
He thought hours
Struggling to defy gravity
Wrote a note
Confessing

She is a part of me
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Beyond Words
Vinicius Lira Mar 2018
i've been trying for two years and i can't
i've been trying for two years and i can not write
i can not read a book
watching a movie became torture
do any minimally long task
is impossible
i can't do anything i used to
and i don't know what's happening
because i can not even
dedicate myself to music
and these are the things i like
they are pieces of what i am
and then i'm in doubt of what i am now
or, by doing nothing
would have i become a piece of nothing
and that's all i could be?
Seline Mui Dec 2017
You can block the past,
and you can block the future,
but you can't block the present.
Jayantee Khare Jun 2017
No double tick on text, bad connection or bad relation....
Ravanna Dee Oct 2016
They say eyes never lie.
But how can I know,
when yours are always closed?
When you're always blocking out the world?
Never opening up, or risking being exposed?
How can I know,
if truth is what you speak?
when your eyes,
never tell a thing?
Don't really know where this came from...

— The End —