Rose
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roseramsden.bsky.social
Rose
@roseramsden.bsky.social
98 followers 66 following 13 posts
avid attention seeker & poet
current royal holloway poetry MA student
UEA creative writing grad
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roseramsden.bsky.social
so pleased to share my poem that has been published by the wonderful @propelmagazine.bsky.social!! after three years, many rejections, and many, many edits, I'm glad this piece has found its home
A right-aligned poem: sleepwalking nobody but the moon watching me bleeding through my jeans house party music drifting im pins and needles im brain freeze a sainsburys bag floating a telephone pole with its arms splayed out the metro pages murmuring a shut tesco express i want my mum to tell me i shouldve brought a jacket im a gerund im conditional tense a friend of a friend of a friend compound complex sentences yet i cant get the text to express the staccato rhythm of my chest i should have just kissed her ive got a dark fruit tab rattling in my head and i cry during sex theres a graveyard between my legs if i could put my trauma on a plate and throw it away with the egg shell and fish paste i would it made me who i am today a girl who cant stay awake a black sack ripping beneath its own weight i think therefore i am searching for my house keys at the bottom of my tote bag
June 1, 2025 at 11:24 AM
roseramsden.bsky.social
my poem was recently published by Ink Sweat & Tears and in typical me fashion, because I can't help myself, I made some edits
A prose poem/concrete poem making a rectangle shape on a white background reading: The last home We left the play early. The last day before the start of secondary school. Dad told me off for slapping the seats, wanting to see the dust rise like smoke. Floating to the ceiling, dirtying the light. The doors hissed open and a stranger emerged. Approached with a stare that trickled down the neckline of my shirt. Unwrapped the skin from my bones. He held out his hand to my father and grinned. Gums like the flesh left on cherry pits. I closed my cardigan. Gazed at the seat. The filth beneath, festering.
February 23, 2025 at 11:01 AM
roseramsden.bsky.social
a few weeks ago I was published by @the-engine-idling.bsky.social for issue 5, in response to the prompt 'trashy daydreams' aka rose does gay gender drama angst
A graphic image of a poem: Give me a 90s makeover and I’ll pretend I don’t want to suck the lip gloss from your teeth Place an apple slice behind my ear and tell me about the vibrator you made from the head of an electric toothbrush and a bottle of nail varnish remover. Not very effective. Puncture skin & replace the absence with nickel bronze from anxious thumbprints. Step into girl like lingerie a set with tasteful lace, baby blue like a sexy easter egg. Remove my sight and reveal I was fuckable all along.
February 9, 2025 at 4:38 PM