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Levi Andrew Oct 2017
did you drink enough to miss me
or did you miss me enough to drink?

my thoughts wander and end up in the most
complicated of places

i wonder which is more true for you
considering you pretend to miss me

and i say i miss you too
i’m uncertain if i mean it yet.  

i ponder of great things
i hope you do too

i just hope you aren’t drinking..
too much.

but I hope it’s enough..
to miss us.

Miss me.
i kind of like this, i think. leave me some feedback!
Levi Andrew Aug 2017
today i picked you some wildflowers
i saw them there on the side of the road
i flashed back to a time when i first met you
when my heart wasn’t so cold
i sat there staring at those flowers
they were absolutely breathtaking
just like the first moment i saw you.

the first moment i saw you
i instantly knew
you would be the one
to take this anger and this pain
and turn it into

absolutely breathtaking.
I think I gotta work on this one, but it’s something new to add to my list.
  Mar 2017 Levi Andrew
Alex Baldwin
You will never know
The pain
Of being Transgender.
You will never know
The tears stained
On my pillow.
You won't see the
Scratches on my
You won't kiss
My lips,
Because the used to be
A girl's.
What? My real name?
My real name is the name
I have no idea what your
Talking about.
Nobody does.
I know , I ****.
  Mar 2017 Levi Andrew
Lenore Lux
I think sometimes, about what it means to be transgender. I probe and probe for answers, because as the possibility for a new age of enlightenment and safety increases, the others want to know. I’ve come up with many answers, but I can hold to none. I don’t deserve to paint the definition of a culture with the limited experiences I’ve had. I don’t see myself in the transgender identified people allowed on television. I don’t see myself in the transgender identified people making news feeds and giving high profile interviews. And as my nation’s exposure to our culture increases, likely will their curiosity. Am I transgender? Do I have the right? I’ve heard doctors, psychiatrists, may refuse transgender patients access to hormone therapy based on how dedicated or convincing their portrayal of their identified gender. If you want to be a man or woman, you’ll have to look like the women and men on TV. If you want to be transgender, you’ll have to look like the trans identified people on TV. Every single one of us who has an active role as either participant or observer in our society is prey to the crisis of validity. Am I pretty enough? Am I strong enough? Am I brave enough? Mom enough? Dad enough? Competitive enough? Successful enough? Rich enough? **** enough? Pious enough? It never ends. We’re, as a nation of people, being crushed and compartmentalized by this ever present lens, looming over us, exploiting our weaknesses and fears so it may grow wider, and support itself as it follows us, seemingly forever into the future. And one of the worst fears this camera of existential torment exploits, in most of us every day, is, “Do I have a reflection?” “What does it look like?” “Do I look like me?” What does it mean to be transgender? I can’t get away from that question. But I don’t have an answer. There are varying degrees of anguish, depression, panic, anxiety, and other wonderful emotional states that creep up on you and breathe down your neck nearly every waking day. Absolute contempt for the lie of a life you’ve lived till now, and contempt for the fragments still stuck to you, in memories, attached to your body and mind. Fear of those in your own community who would purposefully humiliate, invalidate, or attack you, choosing their own universal moral code over the innate urge and capacity to support the health and continued well being of another human. A ******* neighbor. A ******* pupil. A ******* employee. A ******* sister, brother, son, daughter, mother, father, cousin, ******* blood. What is being transgender like? By my experiences, it’s just like being anyone else in the country. But with a lot more fear, death, exclusion and medication.
  Mar 2017 Levi Andrew
Zach Hanlon
Being transgender is like this:
Everyday of your life, you have always wanted a dog.
For as long as you can remember--
even if you don't know to what extent--
you have wanted one.

You asked your parents, Santa, the easter bunny,
even the tooth fairy.
Then one day you get a dead cat for your birthday.
You say "This isn't a dog,"
But "You get what you get and don't get upset"
So you carry around and care for the dead carcass.

All sorts of people look at you,
unable to understand what you are doing.
So then one day you decide to try to make it look a bit nicer.
You wash it a bit, comb what little fur it has left,
cover the decrepit limbs.

But then you realize the futility in doing this all the time,
because you are still carrying around a dead animal.
So you continue to carry it around because you have to,
no matter how horrible it may be.

Although you are carrying around a dead and rotting cat,
you aren't a ******* cat owner;

You still want a ******* dog.
  Mar 2017 Levi Andrew
I've had bad days for as long as I can remember,
Anxiety, loneliness and depression swirling in my head.

(You might think loneliness and depression are the same but that's not true, loneliness is just a SYMPTOM of depression)

I used to have good days,
Where it didn't hurt as much,
Any more,
But these bad days come back,
And the came,
And they stayed,
For weeks at a time,
Anxiety had me mumbling,
"I'm fine"'s

(The actual act of being 'fine' is something I've never had the privilege of experiencing)

I got so many bad days,
My therapist,
(Along with my mother)
Tried to convince me they weren't,
ALL bad.

I'm depressed, turned into:
The weather,
And, I'm alone,
Turned into:
Call your friends!
I'm suicidal,
Turned into:

I don't think you understand...

That this plan,
Of telling me my feelings aren't real,
Or that I shouldn't feel what I feel when I'm feeling it.
Isn't helping me,
Or saving me.
Because I remember being 12,
In an emergency room,
With death on my mind,
And burns on my wrist,
Being told,
I couldn't be admitted to a mental ward,
Because they only accept 13 year olds,
That, the qualifications,
Where there,
That I wanted to die,
But You were,
Just to young,
To be feeling,
What you were feeling,
When you were feeling it.
You shouldn't,
Be feeling what your feeling,
When your feeling it.
  Feb 2017 Levi Andrew
Shyanna Ashcraft
I always thought of her as a house.
Shelter from any danger;
Home for the weary traveler;
Warmth for those,
Who've been lost or cold for too long.

Her arms,
Like the walls of a house,
Keep me safe,
Sheltered and hidden
From eyes like stars.

Her words,
Like windows of a house
Make me see the world,
As if it is my own backyard.

Her smile,
Like a worn and patched roof
On a Victorian house,
Shields me from the worries of the world
That fall like cold rain.

She is strong.
Like that Victorian house
That has stood proudly
Through decades of wind and rain.

Like the walls
Of the age-old structure,
She has seen
And she has heard
Many things that give her wisdom.

Through generations,
She holds her family together,
She has rooms enough
For every person.

She is elegance.
And she is grace.
And she is that Glorious House.
And I will never,
Allow her to be knocked down.
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