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I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
If I  wake and we were all be a dream.
Would that ease my pain
or further, break my heart.
I have so much love in my heart for the people in my life, but it dances with my anxiety and sorrow. I wish could wake up, and not be such a melancholy soul. Although some of my greatest loves have made me this melancholy, if they were a dream, what would I be?
  May 2017 Aletheia Ann Bradford
Bjarke
My poems of love are usually sad.
Let's see how this one goes.
Love is love, it's a simple sentence.
Three words.
But for the world it's a difficult thing to comprehend.
I've been fortunate enough to have a family that understands but somewhere else in the world there's a place where no one does.
People are being rounded up, and killed like roaches in an infestation.
Shoved off roofs, shot in the streets and for what.
For loving just a little different.
For living as themselves.
My heart is heavy.
My mind unsteady.
Thinking of how my family would act if one day I came home for christmas with another man on my arm.
He'd be welcomed and greeted with the kindest of hearts.
Because here love is love.
And I wish the world could love like this.
In Chechnya LGBT people are being murdered. I don't know what to say. It's horrible
Deaf ears, deaf ears they fall on
The axe blows to the tree go unnoticed, until ever too late.

But a final giddy cut will awaken us
So that we will have the pleasure of being conscious, as we fall.

But Rome wasn't felled in a day
There was no sudden explosion
It's the drip, drip, of erosion that end's a history

But there were always heralds and signs
Ignored visions that glowed in my mind, like a villa on fire.

That toothless grin, destroying marbled beauty
And your pliant face, happy to be held in those calloused hands.
DTX
I'm lost in the city
But I'm taking my time
The streets keep talking to me
They're asking how everyone can spend so much time looking down and straight ahead
When a whole world grows rapidly above them

Buildings grow into the stars
A new styled solar system
They dance among the clouds
Wisping fluffs of greys and whites
When I look, I know that I want to be where it all connects

I am gliding down hills
I am fumbling through crosswalks
I am slipping past street signs
because I can't keep my feet on the ground and my head from that new world
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