Dear Annya,

Help me let go of you. I can’t let go, it’s not a need for you but something I can’t explain. A phenomena. I’m into you and I don’t care what you say, I know you’re into me. Maybe your interest in me has faded but mine hasn’t. It may go into the depths of my consciousness but it’s still there. I don’t know why. It’s not usually this hard. I forget people all the time but you seem to pop up when I don’t even want you to. I want to say I love you but I don’t think Iit’s that. It’s too easy. I can’t say I don’t love you but that’s not the answer I need. I would love to chase this fantasy with you. Us together would probably end in a trainwreck but the journey would probably be great. Why the fuck are we not together?

I don’t want to push my desperation onto you but it if it makes you feel better, it’s probably from just working in isolation too much. But also you’re wise to a degree. When I realised you’re smart my Annya-dream-count doubled in frequency. You’re so much more than what I see on your instagram, you’re so much more than your abundance of silence during our phone calls – at least to me. You’re something worth caring about to me in a world where I think everything is bullshit. I’m writing this letter because I need to be able to either hold you or drop you but I can’t live in the limbo of my heart’s desires, I just can’t. I don’t want you to lose someone who can give you what you need in life and I don’t want to lose someone who I actually feel someone who I actually feel something for; and don’t tell me we can be friends because even as friends, I’ve lost you. Following each other on insta, seeing each other’s photos but not speaking for months or years, semi-awkward random encounters on Oxford Street that last 5 seconds and end with “We should meet up sometime.” even though we won’t. That’s what friendship is now, that’s what losing each other would look like.

I don’t want that, I want you. I don’t want to want you but I do. Help me help you. If you still don’t see or feel something after this then so be it. I’ll never hate you but I’d be regretful if I never got to love you.

Take care Annya,

think about it and stay in touch.

Levi xxx


I see your reflection bouncing off my sunglasses

You think you see me but
you don't.
You don't see the fear or the love
you see yourself and
you hate it.

Don't think you know who I am
when you can't even see my eyes -
You don't know what I've seen.

Your eyes dart away but
you don't even know what you're afraid of.
Your face says I'm a cunt yet
your lips don't even move an inch.

Don't think you know what I am
when you can't look at your own reflection -
You don't know what I see.


The river flows,
and in it
comes violence of the sea -
washing down the stones
and washing down the dirt.

Inner turmoil out at sea

My mind is a storm
Clapping and bashing against itself
Turbulent, carrying away men that enter

My soul is the depths
Pushed beneath the surface
and the body I own is the earth that holds it

My words are the tides
and my thoughts are the sea salt
Giving life to all beasts hiding within me.

Purge me

Purge me lord
my stomach is empty.
It's only a matter of time
before my heart does the same.

Fuck you, I’m done. and so are you

 I can hear them
Why is it wrong to be quiet?
Why is it?
Is there a problem?

It's just quiet.

But yet we watch talk shows to hear celebrities talk and poor people laugh
They don't stop
I know they don’t,
Searching for the next joke
The audience almost coughing
gasping for air
strangled by social pressures to not hurt anyone’s feelings
or get in the way so
Crying but with smiles
As if held down and tickled against their will
Tortured by their own biological systems,
I can feel it through my ears
The pain and the tickles
Their diaphragms like windbags
Their arseholes tight like a gun cocked
At the ready they'll fill the room with hysterical laughter and a metaphorical bang
All targeted at the host with hoots, hollers and metaphorical bullets
All because of an actor’s charming recount of forgetting their keys and wallet at home.
Like charms that ward of evil spirits
Like screams that ward off room for thought
The awkward smiles attempt to ward off any returns
The privilege to think is now an inconvenience
So we kill our brains to be able to get on with our days 🙂
Fuck being happy,
We have work tomorrow.

If you loved me, you’d let me sleep

That Blank stare
and those repetitive answers
and the uh-huh's
They irritate you and I can tell
I can see the slight awkwardness between silences
The inhibited second stutter while I read your lips and your mind
Your face hangs loose hopelessly
but your heart beats tightly trying to keep it together
I see you getting smaller but the negative energy around you growing larger
But just because I don't exist the way you want me to
doesn't mean you don't exist to me
I listen to you through your thoughts,
not your words
I love you for what you've done for me
Not what you've said to me
Now come back to bed
I'm tired
I've got work tomorrow.

Everyone’s ugly when they’re dead

The crowns on our heads were made to be bludgened
but for you my dear
It was meant to be the ash tray for my tears
to hold you while you freeze me with the chill of your dead corpse
and if I could do it again I would
to witness your beauty fade into a titanium white hue of your ashy complexion
So I can remember that I love you and that you're
I'm still bargaining with God
But it seems Nature doesn't do second chances

We’ll fall in love in the sky

I'll cry for you now so I won't have to later
But when I stand in the rain
I'll know that you miss me
Because I'll feel your tears running down my face
Trickling down my cheekbones
And gripping my chin to hold me steady
for one

Like poultry to the slaughter

Birds that aspire to be doves and eagles
but objectively, pigeons
Fat, dirty, stupid and oily
Failures without even having the knowledge so
Rummaging through trash bins and
scraping by
expecting bread from strangers
and others to share - because we're special
Our incompetence within the hunt only makes us more of a priority
victims with fat chests and fat bellies,
weak wings and unused claws
Like poultry to the slaughter
Like city-dwellers to the morning train.