If I told you that,
I can hold my breath for
Two and a half minutes,
You may ask,
"Why hold your breath when,
You live in a world filled with oxygen?"

I will always reply,
"It is so,
When life starts to drag me,
Beneath those waves,
I will survive
**That much longer."

We draw them in sand,
On sidewalks and crime scenes;
We adore them on Granny,
Abhor them on maps.
On chalkboards, I will not...
In Clubs, Don't I know you...
In poems we can hear them
Playing songs of I love you...
A line is infinite,
Yet begins with a dot;
Those lines run right through us,
Like it or not.

They teach us how to draw lines                                                                                 In the beginning of our childhood,but                                                                         We turn these pretty lines into puzzles and                                                                Into zigzag lines anytime ...                                                                                            Lines are like squares and circles ,but                                                                         They are still not shaped ...                                                                                             We shape lines differently turning them                                                                     Into all kinds of shapes                                                                                                   Simply because we want to make                                                                                 Different worlds that don't like our worlds ...                                                            We ,as adults,draw lines and shapes that                                                                 Suit everyone of us' world ...                                                                                       Our intentions draw our life's lines ,but                                                                      With our own hands ...                                                                                                 Our lines might bad or they might be bad                                                              Depending on our intentions ...                                                                                    We have all colorful lines                                                                                             Starting from the rainbow's colors and they never end ...                                        Everyday we draw our lines                                                                                     Openly and secretly ...                                                                                               There are those red lines that some people dare                                                         To cross anytime and                                                                                                   There are those wars' lines that we all draw anytime ...                                             Where are those of any peace's lines ?!                                                                     All of our life is full of many lines ,but                                                                         It depends ...                                                                                                                  Lines can straight lines or zigzag lines ,but                                                                Our minds' lines are vague and difficult ...                                                                We draw our lines with                                                                                             Our hands anytime,anywhere,and everywhere ...                                                     We are inevitably the good-doers and                                                                       Some of us are the evil-doers ...                                                                                    ___________________­__

A kid I saw today looked like you.
Poor *******.

A heart torn
Torn between two
Do I want him
Or do I want you

His hands on my hips
But your name rolls off my lips
Torn between love and passion
My heart slowly rips

In losing grip
But I force myself to hold on
I don't know why I can't except
You're already gone

He says he loves me
But that's not true
There's no love
Like the one I had for you

He seen me smile
He seen me cry
All over a girl
And he doesn't understand why

From him I hide the truth
I wanted to make her my wife
Now she's gone and he's here
But I guess it's just the bisexual life

As a pansexual/******* myself I take these poems to heart, I may have written these poems, but I'm only passing on the messages. Any hate comments you leave will bounce right off of my rainbow colored sheild. (:





Right in the middle

Stuck in a battle of who to love

not knowing that I had a middle ground to go to

my love of boys strong

my love of girls strong

I couldn’t tell which I wanted in my life more

couldn’t choose

wouldn’t choose

I wasn’t seeing any other options

then I remembered this one

I can love both

because love is love

who cares who you share it with

who cares who you give it to

as long as they give it to

I thought the ***** would make me stop feeling it
But instead I just felt it more intensely.
I kissed a girl and I liked it
Not like that Katy Perry song describes.
I am not some **** straight girl with a boyfriend
Who is trying to impress other dudes at a washed up bar.
I just don't get it
Maybe I never will
How I can be some Christian child of God
And feel this simultaneously?
I will never understand
How some will continue to harp on the idea
That this whole spectrum is a plea for attention
And does not exist.
What the hell are they talking about?
Do they think I like walking around every day
With a stigma attached to my chest
Even though most people do not even know the truth?
Do they think I enjoy
Lying to my parents, day in and day out
Saying I am this pure, straight Presbyterian teen
Who's secrets are all out in the open?
There is a ton they do not know
This is just the tip of the iceberg.
Do they believe that I find pleasure in
Hiding a huge part of who I am
From my school, my church and my community?
They cannot judge me
That is God's job.
These are just a few of my classic gripes
About being a closeted bisexual
In a conservative family.