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The most **** thing about a guy has nothing to do with his clothes, hair or eye colour.

It's in the way he looks at you with longing, when you finally find out he wants you just as badly as you want him.

When he pulls you so close to him that there is literally no space between you, because he can't stand the thought of there being any.      

When he kisses you, so that it feels as if he is stealing the air from your lungs, and for those few seconds you forget what air even is.
    
When all thoughts go out the window and its just him, with you,in the most simple way possible.

Now that is the definition of ****.
Pure passion is ecstacy...
Anastasia Braun Jun 2014
Maybe the reason I yell in my sleep

Is because I know

My demons are coming for me.
Anastasia Braun Jun 2014
How did we get here?
Not the place
But the moment.
Blowing on the kindles
Of our once burning love
In hopes that a single spark may fly
And relight the passion we once felt.

In the heat of bliss we swore
We would never love another
But I can't help to think
There has to be something better.

We wander aimlessly in love with something that will only collect dust
But was it really love
Or only lust?

As I stare into your dark sunken eyes
I can't help but see the future
We once had
Shatter like broken glass
Leaving open wounds
We hope will soon heal
But never really do.

I never thought I would
Have to utter
These bitter words ;



It's not me


It's you.
I took some inspiration from being as an ocean and my own life
Anastasia Braun Jun 2014
Stand tall
Stand proud
They tell us
But how can we stand at all?
When we have been beaten
And broken
And stripped of our identities.
The past is not
Just the past
It is our fears
And our memories.

This is a fight
For basic human rights
And we will not surrender.
Because love
Is about love
And not about
Gender.

We have to break this cycle
The cycle of hate
And the cycle of oppression
Because too many people
Have fallen victim
To depression.

Love is blind
Which makes society deaf
Unable to hear the pleas
Of the people who would rather
Choose death
Than live in fear
In fear of being who they are.

So stand up for what is right
Stand up for those who
Cannot stand for themselves
Those who feel they have
No voice.
What society must learn is that:

Ignorance is a choice

Who you love is not.
My first poem

— The End —