Category: My Work

1. To anyone outside of New York, living in New York is enough. To anyone living in New York, where you live seems to make a difference. Some use it as an indicator of how much money you make. Others use it as an indicator of how many tourists you’ll…

1) MISSING YOU Feels like there’s a hole in my stomach. Like someone has punched me in the chest. Like breathing is unnecessary. Why bother? But I do. 2) WONDERING WHAT YOU’RE DOING Imagining you’re always with me, That you can always see me, And give me your opinions… You’d…

There is an invisible tether Connects me to you If I pull, you move When you pull, I feel it too Distance does not matter Neither does time, place, material objects Constant. Present. Heart to soul. – Rachel Kelly Davis (@arkaydee)

One person Magnetic Instantly found in a crowded room. It’s breathlessness. Feeling giddy. Uneasiness. It’s the sadness of separation. The joy of transcontinental understanding. It spans lifetimes, Of falling in love with those same eyes. – Rachel Kelly Davis (@arkaydee)

There is a part of the subway, between 33rd and 42nd street where the 6 runs alongside the 4. During this time you can actually look into the other train and clearly see the faces of people going in the exact same direction, but somewhere wildly different. The love of…

There is a field with sunlight and golden grass beneath. There is a field, a gentle breeze, and early autumn heat. There is a beach with overgrown shrubs, sand dunes, and a broken fence. There is a beach, a wedding aisle, a grey suit at the end. There is a…

I love you more than life itself, more than the air that I breathe, and the water that refreshes me. More than sustenance and shelter, more than light. In the black, desert, dry wilderness, I will love you. – Rachel Kelly Davis (arkaydee)

She was supposed to go to med school. But life got in the way. The contract to be a superstar was ready. But life got in the way. She listened to her fortune and couldn’t believe it. Life is getting in the way. He planned on never telling his children.…

Originally written as a contest entry. ( I didn’t win. :p ) — Barriers By Rachel Kelly Davis The wind was warm and it smelled of salt. It was a clear night; pleasant despite the humidity. Tiny bulbs lit the pathway up to the small bungalow. Music and laughter could…