Rachel Bradford
My name is Rachel. I’m 24, and I’m from California! I have been writing poetry on and off for most of my life. One day I kinda realized this is all I want, all I need. Writing now is the thing I am most passionate about!
I mainly write free-verse poetry but have been recently inspired by lyrical poetry. I hope to implement music into my work further and use it as a powerful background tool to my already established goal of spreading love speaking out on political, environmental, racial, gender-based, and other social issues.
I also hope to use my space to create a space for other creatives. I’m very interested in collaborating with illustrators, musicians, photographers, and any other types of artists to get more exposure for our work. As well as create something raw and unique! I have written two books that have yet to be released.
My debut book, “Essentially, Love Poems” (Poems about art that’s inspired me, “love” in a general sense, hate, connection, and the lack thereof.), is set to be released before the end of the year!
2020
The year
melancholic
skies
hung over
the whole world.
I
personally,
have shed enough tears…
So you,
need not to.
My heart has broken
again
and
again.
Im tired
so tired…
Still
I refuse
to rest.
I will hold your hand,
my dear,
until
my bones
become
powder.
2020
The year
that took
everything
from everyone.
It took some of us
away
and
from ourselves.
It took our calm
and gave us
a deafening
silence
as we stayed
restricted
in our
mental
and physical
cages
of confinement.
Within this conflicting time;
a time
of great loss…
It seems
as though,
some of us
found
a great lot.
We lost our minds
but found
truths.
We lost some hopes
but found
our dreams.
We lost some recourses
but found
sustainability
in the important
and intangibles;
love, kindness, family, positivity, etc…
2020
The year
that kicked all our asses collectively.
It sucked
there’s no way around that.
I’m even
in the past tense
referring to it
because
in my mind
it is done.
This year
will be
written about
in
all the history books.
Economists
and scientists
alike
will study this year
and its many impacts for years.
This year
will live on
in infamy
forever
in the hearts and minds
of us all.
thoughts,
Most of the words,
and feelings
elected
to define
this year
will be negative
or colorful curses,
both of which
I’d aggressively agree with.
But my hope
lies
in this simple realization;
2020
is the year
that tried
to drink us to death;
on defeat and depression.
But ah,
my dear,
we
did not let it.
We drank
from our glasses
of bravery.
We drank ‘em empty.
We will drink
and drink—not until we’ve had enough
(We are much too resilient for that)
No,
we will drink
and will stop
only
when 2020
has
nothing
left
to pour.
You can find Rachel on Instagram and Twitter.
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