Rachel Elam
Rachel Elam is an emerging poet in New York City. Rachel is the Founder of Glitter+Soul and her work has published in Origin Magazine and in 2012. Rachel leads Mindfulness and Social Good efforts at Facebook Inc.
“02 – determined to rise” and “03 – for the man in the phone booth”
in the darkest of caves
illuminated by night
i sought answers in your shape
you sought refuge in mine.
it was lust, masked as love
the highs, worth the lows
you were broken
mysterious
destructive
light.
illuminated by night
i sought answers in your shape
you sought refuge in mine.
it was lust, masked as love
the highs, worth the lows
you were broken
mysterious
destructive
light.
Poetry
Issue 39, July 2020
“01 – to feel what it feels like”
when i was eighteen
i lost sensation
in my cheeks. it was only
years later, once i felt the
slightest tingling
return to that same skin
that i let myself mourn
its absence (easier to numb
with positivity and denial
than to recount
the beauty and
brokenness
that led to its loss).
i lost sensation
in my cheeks. it was only
years later, once i felt the
slightest tingling
return to that same skin
that i let myself mourn
its absence (easier to numb
with positivity and denial
than to recount
the beauty and
brokenness
that led to its loss).
Poetry
Issue 38, June 2020
Rachel Elam
Rachel Elam is an emerging poet in New York City. Rachel is the Founder of Glitter+Soul and her work has published in Origin Magazine and in 2012. Rachel leads Mindfulness and Social Good efforts at Facebook Inc.
“02 – determined to rise” and “03 – for the man in the phone booth”
in the darkest of caves
illuminated by night
i sought answers in your shape
you sought refuge in mine.
it was lust, masked as love
the highs, worth the lows
you were broken
mysterious
destructive
light.
illuminated by night
i sought answers in your shape
you sought refuge in mine.
it was lust, masked as love
the highs, worth the lows
you were broken
mysterious
destructive
light.
Poetry
Issue 39, July 2020
“01 – to feel what it feels like”
when i was eighteen
i lost sensation
in my cheeks. it was only
years later, once i felt the
slightest tingling
return to that same skin
that i let myself mourn
its absence (easier to numb
with positivity and denial
than to recount
the beauty and
brokenness
that led to its loss).
i lost sensation
in my cheeks. it was only
years later, once i felt the
slightest tingling
return to that same skin
that i let myself mourn
its absence (easier to numb
with positivity and denial
than to recount
the beauty and
brokenness
that led to its loss).
Poetry
Issue 38, June 2020