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Rosaline Moray Jan 2015
Tempt me

If you can.

If your eyes sparkle,
If you're 6ft2
If your eyes are brown

Tempt me.

Dare me to see you for you, and not for being exactly like

That six foot and two inches of absolute chaos
Like that boy who never takes no for an answer and is never honest and
Doesn't know how to be functional.

It never works.
You all look the same.

And I don't like boys with blue eyes, green,
And anything in between.
Rosaline Moray Jul 2013
In your eyes, I see a storm.

Tells me that
There is no safe harbour anywhere -

No point in trying to dock in your arms.
Nothing left to hold me down now.

And it's starting to rain.

And I have nothing to say but

I am sorry.

I forecast this morning all wrong.
Rosaline Moray May 2013
There's a bruise on my collarbone.
I waved it off as, um,

I'm clumsy?

But if I am I guess I just walked straight into your kiss.

My dress is clinging to the scent of your aftershave
And my cigarette,

But they're both secrets

So I've locked them away in the back of my mind, to keep them fresh.

And I've hidden the dress at the back of the wardrobe, just in case I forget.
Rosaline Moray Nov 2015
Father is
The strength of the tea he drinks-
He shrinks with age, but it is not evaporation.
I call it distilling.

Mother is
The rain burrowed deep –
Giving life, stripping away the moss that covers the truth of my world.
Inescapable. I cannot live without her.

Brother is
The boy who breaks my heart
More than the one who has my heart.
Come home, be done with your wicked games.
Let your pulse calm as we drink strong tea,
And listen to the rain.
Rosaline Moray Mar 2013
Lead me to grace
Allow me to be an angel
An angle in a line
180 degrees perfect symmetry with you

What is love?
Is it an abstract?
Black white blue?
Cheesy and tacky?
Or something sinister.
Rosaline Moray Jul 2014
I changed.
I know
The blame lies with me.

It festers within my growing limbs
My lightening hair
And the fibers of my fight-or-flight muscles
Honed through experience
Of running into mistakes
And away from confrontation.

Your kind of confrontation.


Best friend.

What's the difference?
They're one and the same
Now that I've changed

For the better.
Rosaline Moray Sep 2013
She calls you by your full name.

Sounds **** from her lips.

Not like honey; your name is the buzzing of the bees that make it and when I say it

My lips tingle.

But you'll never know.
Rosaline Moray Feb 2014
You were the death of me
Have nothing left.
I see a lover with his bonita and I suffer  
With regret
Because of reasons I can't explain.
Rosaline Moray Aug 2013
There is a photograph of  you and that man.
You: in a dress we shared -

Looks better on your frame anyway.
But when you're standing next to him,
Forgive me, if I wrap you in thick black sheets
Of Kevlar.

Because that frame has been shattered
And I don't have enough glue left for the next time.
Because there
Be a next time.

Long bare legs and pouty lips, your hair; dark, and mine
Lank; I can't sleep.

I'm afraid for you.
I'm afraid of him.

I'm sorry I couldn't do enough
To break you apart -

I'm sorry it's not what you wanted
I'm sorry your whole family adores him -

I'm sorry I can't - won't - be there any more.
On that we agree.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
Rosaline Moray Apr 2013
I don't think of you during the day
Apart from when I'm on the bus,
Journeying through a dream land to a tangible destination.

Your face fades into short sightedness
Until I stumble across old photos,
And hold them close to my face, close to my heart.

Your blue eyes are now part of a mood board of mine,
Instead of my entire outlook on life.

And I never believed what a friend the morning could be.
How well the dancing trees would listen
As I pour out all my secrets
To be absorbed, like carbon dioxide,
And be exhaled as harmless oxygen.

They whisper; give us the tales of Summer,
The Autumn with its wind and its match-making rain,
Give us that Spring you spent alone,
And we'll show you the light that grows,
Out of the Winter
That holds your soul.

And we conspire
And we laugh,
And we promise
To heal things
To grow things
And to eat,
And enjoy,
The fruits of our labour.
As with all my poems, plagiarism is against the law. Please just show your thoughts by leaving them below, now that, is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Rosaline Moray Jun 2013
Beautiful curves
Like conjoined maltesers
She melted under your touch,
And you crunched away all her inner toughness
With each little nip at her neck.

It was hot and
She stuck to your fingers.
So you bathed together,
Hot and steamy
And then you melted too.
Rosaline Moray May 2014
I hope you die lonely
Without any children.

I want to pack my life in a rucksack
And leave it behind, so I can really travel light.

I hope your wife leaves you
For your brother, like I didn't have the guts to do.

I hope that one day I will be able to
Get the first choice, instead of your left overs.

I wish you don't ever come back to our classes
So people won't think I'm evil.

I stole a shell out of your garden
And gave it to my best friend. We hate each other.
Rosaline Moray May 2014
I can't figure it out right now, let's just leave it,

I say.

But what about tomorrow?*

I think.

When we're ninety,

What then?

Because I want to be with you,

I can admit.

I want snowy days by the fireplace, and sonograms and rings

I want your future, I'll need you in the morning

Some day.

But right now

I'm sorry,

Love is a foreign thing.
Rosaline Moray Mar 2013
It drips by, life.
Steady and constant and I cannot escape.
It's rusty and murky
and leaves behind lime scale
And I scrape and I scrape
But nothing is ever clean.
I have my good moments,
When light hits the surface just right
And I catch my reflection
And I forget what's beneath.
But it's always there, waiting.
And if it could freeze, like ice,
I would just walk over it
And pick myself up whenever I'd slip,
But it won't, and I'm drowning
And the water tastes foul
And the air is no better
So I just want to sink
And sink
And see if I can find my feet again.
Rosaline Moray Sep 2013
Somewhere along the road I turned into
A bit of a nightmare,

With my laugh too loud and my heels -
Head in the clouds
Each night.

Crushed by bodies but I'm the last person in the world, and
I've brought it on myself.
Such a sight.
Rosaline Moray Mar 2013
Fold your hand into mine
And let me see your eyes.

I don't want to look.

In my past, there is a man
Who would have loved this kind of joy.

I don't want to know you.

Allow me to join you as you cry,
I know what it is to lose something cocoon safe, crimson love.

I don't want to feel a thing.

I want to see you smile now,
I want to know you can.

I don't want you to be unhappy.

I was happy once, but I was a fool
And now I foolishly thought I could be happy, with a compromise.

I don't want to realise that you are a disappointment.

Please, please, my steady love, come back and see that I've grown up!
I can do this now! So please, please come do this with me?

I do not love one half of her; I do not love her father.
Rosaline Moray Mar 2013
You sit at a piano
We're outside and we're cold.

We're talking about second chances
Now we're apart, now we're old.

I feel your shoulders. You got more toned.
In contrast to anorexia, my fingers have gotten fat.

I miss you, you miss me,
I leave. Almost.

And then you say, you still have to work on things,
The way you talk, what you think, and what you want.

And I am proud of myself for getting angry
For throwing your pride and prejudice right back at you.

I say that you're not perfect either
Your voice, your touch, and your respect for me:

I've had better. But I still want you.
And I know it. And I'm glad you know it now.
Rosaline Moray May 2014
Just a little spinning oak

Born of strong roots

Destined to decay.

I wanted to be so much

And perhaps I will be kept pressed
In a book

In a romance novel

To mark the page.

Close to the words:

'I love


But never quite immersed.
Rosaline Moray Oct 2013
To the man with
A thousand contradictions cradled within his skull,
The very same man with
The hard eyes and the gentle hands;
I've resigned to resolve
My resolve
When it comes down to solving you.
Rosaline Moray Mar 2013
She steals my life, a lot.

She rings my mum, talks to her about stuff I said I would.

Leads that same woman past me and him

To introduce her to her flavour of the month

Though I'm in the fledgling steps of love.

She calls at my house

And sleeps in my room

She wears my clothes

And raves about me about how little I do for her

As she complains about how little she's done in life.

I've given her everything,

This friend,

And she still finds stuff to take.
Rosaline Moray Apr 2013
Eternity is a nice word.
Like a night that never ends,
A hug that never releases,
A love that never leaves,
A life that never fades.
Eternity is a nice word,
But it's not something that you or I
Could afford.
So don't you dare make promises
You cannot keep.
As with all my poems, plagiarism is against the law. Please just show your thoughts by leaving them below, now that, is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Rosaline Moray Apr 2013
Once upon a concrete fairytale
There lived, and loved, a girl
With eyes of cuts of sky
And lips of roses red.

She aimed to be kind,
And she aspired to be perfect,
And though it's what you saw
She often fell short,
Like a shot of whiskey;
This lovely, golden girl.

If she so wished,
The stars would have been her hairnet,
The midnight ink her silent gown,
And suitors the slippers that caressed her feet,
The ones she walked all over.

She was described as
Spring; as laughter in liquid form
To be drank in slowly; as ice
On the spine - so revitalizing;
Like your future,
Like everything you wanted.

But she didn't want
Any part of herself.
She found her words too sweet,
Her beliefs too strong,
She found her own life and song too stifling.

And her Prince was a long time coming.

And you watched her wither,
Eat poison apples, and wake herself up,
You watched her become still, and quiet,
With the lonely that froze her
Out of her own heart.

And so you, her jailer, with your watchful stare,
Took pity, and, releasing her,
From her self made chains,
You told her to cut her hair, to dress different,
To do anything to reanimate her mind.
You gave her the key.

And she used it.
Then she threw it out the tower,
So it could never again enslave her,
And then she jumped after it.
Chasing sweet, unparalleled freedom.

And she lived happily ever after
In the hearts and minds of men.

No puppet strings attached.
As with all my poems, plagiarism is against the law. Please just show your thoughts by leaving them below, now that, is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Rosaline Moray May 2013
I dreamt once that I danced with you.

Fox trot,
White dress,
Dim lit room.

I looked more like my grandmother than myself
But you just looked a better version of you.

No needle marks in sight.

You told me you liked us this way,
No fighting,
Everything clear, reality perfectly defined.

No confusion, nothing bad,

Just us, a gramophone, love,

And just when I don't need it most,

An alarm clock to wake me up.

And the sound is no dancing tune. It is

As harsh and loud
And crass
As the you who stirs beside me,

As unromantic as a broken record.
Rosaline Moray Jun 2013
This is driving me crazy
You are laughing

Who knew you could do that?

And you're squeezing the sponge
That is my memory
To see what still remains of the echoes of the
Rancid mess that
Made of my childhood.

I blamed myself for so long but now I
I am breathing, and I'm breathing free
Because one of these days
You'll die.

Because you're only mortal.

And I beg it sooner rather than later.
Because then you'll be as far away as possible
As far as humanly possible
(Which I didn't know was possible)
Away from me.
Rosaline Moray Mar 2013
Cracking up, like an iceberg,
And just as cold
I lose shards of myself
Into this black abyss that is my mind.
Whole pieces of me fall,
I am lost.
I become nothing, water streaming and not stopping
Sections of my entirety
I drift these unhappy miles
Searching, searching
For a wisp of myself and my original soul,
But I am lost.
Unseen beneath these slick waves
I distance me from all my other atoms
With all my power and all my malice
I could have crushed you first.
Rosaline Moray Apr 2013
I see, you are the full stop.
Not a semi colon;
Sheer things
And don't give me a chance
To elaborate
To explain.
It's the word that came
Before you.
Everything comes before you
Pushing daisies
Impossible flowers
To rot,
I'll collect them all.
I will wrap them up and show you
Good can come
Budding Spring might be over.
Although that season is growing
We two, still, are
You have enough
In your hands,
Green fingers,
To carry our story
As with all my poems, plagiarism is against the law. Please just show your thoughts by leaving them below, now that, is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Rosaline Moray Jun 2013
There is no guilt
Like the guilt that trips
Back and forth between
Our lips.

And I have never known shame
Like five a.m.
Getting light
And desire is only just
Turning to lead.

There is a screaming
Inside my head
That begs us to stop,
But we're comfortable
So devilishly comfortable
Inside this guilty bed.
Rosaline Moray Aug 2014
Feeling bereft

Isn't an odd thing, an entirely new thing, or disorienting

At all.

But my head is spinning and my guts are churning

And all

Because I cannot call you. My fingertips are stuck on the first few numbers

And the key

For the padlocked zip on my mouth...

I threw it away, out in the trash.

Along with all the common sense and hope for us I had.
Rosaline Moray Sep 2014
Out the door and on the street
She waits
With impatient lips.
Hands on hips.
Smiling eyes,
Sweet candy
Wrapper tacked to bottom of bright red heel.
Nobody looks at the sky.
What need is there to hide from clouds?
Rain can only wash tears and fears away.
This is a jubilant day,
Flat foot.
How many friends do you have left?
Some are gone to pasture in fields,
Some are posturing and misunderstand.
It's not your fault.
Listen to the brass band and her voice as she calls you down,
And into the light,
Where you can become once again what you always have been,
An every day hero.
Loud Father to your children,
Proud Husband to your wife.
Rosaline Moray Jul 2013
I am not forgiving -
I am not to be trifled with -
I am not a fool,
And I am not about to fall
For your watery smiles
As you make yourself the victim
In the aftermath
Of the ****** mess
You made of my head.

Rarely am I ever,
But in this I am innocent,
And I will not stoop to your level,
But neither will I raise you to mine.

I hate you.
And I think I always will;
Because how can I love the bullet
In the guise of a friend
That exposed my thoughts
And my fears
And my worries
To the open air
And its pigeons
For ridicule?

This was not a two sided thing.
This was a trick coin
That showed your two faces

So don't you dare throw forgive and forget in my face,
When a minute ago, you were flinging ****.
Rosaline Moray Aug 2013
I don't want
To break with you.

Can't we still be babies
In a tub,

Tattling to our mums;
Watching our worlds end,
And still falling asleep as friends?

I want to still be
The angle-face good one,

To your fantastically beautiful spiky one,

But you see, with age,
Comes bitchiness and a sense of

Self respect.

I never had that before
Around you.

Oh, I was your good little dolly,
Darling of your heart

But you like to beat that muscle well,
Don't you?

Much harder than necessary.

So why then
Do you think that
This constriction and skipping of a beating
Was a surprise attack of the heart?
Rosaline Moray May 2013
They are cruel because 'you can take it';
In their eyes, beauty is strength.
When they go home and tell mocking tales of your conquests,
They hate that they will not wake up, this morning or next, with your face.

They are spiteful because you have all the power to be.
Although you might choose to be kind, let loyalty live.
In truth, they see in you what a child sees
Under the bed, in the wardrobe, in the eyes of a dentist.

Try telling them that, inside, you have none of your outer glittering iciness,
And they will only try to find where the venom hides,
Crunch underfoot the pearls of honesty,
And padlock your perfect cage a little harder than necessary.

But you can not let it hurt.
That would upset the balance of things.
If you show your humanity, they will show to be lacking in theirs
And the world would be turned upside down.

And for all their moaning, becoming the victim of their destruction would be your worst crime of all.
Rosaline Moray Aug 2014
I visit a city
And there is blood on the streets;
Dried blood,
War blood,
Blood from my own heart.

Women birthed here
And died along with their men.
And the babies became soldiers and bled.
And died.

And there is blood from those who dared to love
To hold taboo soulmates in the dead of night,
And they're all sleeping now, safe and tight.
Mass graves and funeral pyres
Leave for little room in their retirement.

The streets are clean,
But listen to the blood as it sings.
Rosaline Moray Apr 2013
Clenched fists
Sweaty palms
Darting eyes
Too ashamed
To meet.

On and on
Friends growing tired
Impatiently holding
Sweet breath
While we waste ours.

My sharp tongue,
Devil Woman,
You called me,
I inflicted such pain.

Kind, but not without barriers
Were an easy target.
We had such fun.

Found love
In the face of our games
But now
I am alone.
Rosaline Moray Nov 2015
Built like a shard of ice
She grows taller in cold climes;
In environments hostile to
And envious of
Anything that breathes.

Hard flung words may try to break her
Howling winds will shake her strength,
But she is rigid and growing sharper,
Too spiky to think of bending.

With all the potential to break,
To crack, dissipate in the onslaught of storms
She screams into the avalanche of hate and says,

I am you,
And we are one,
We are one kind

All of us are lonely
All of us are hurting
Each of us doubt the other
Only feel our body’s pain

But when you cut me
You will be the one to bleed,

One day, when you learn to feel what matters.

It doesn't matter now.
Not today, and not tonight.
The Foxes are foraging in all force,
And they will not stop until they draw blood from ice.
Rosaline Moray Dec 2013
This is our little corner of the earth
Right at the edge of the world.
Fall off,
Fall off, you tell me
There's no going back once you do.
Rosaline Moray May 2013
I lie in bed at night,
And my hand rests in the dip between
My ribcage and my hip.

And if my fingers were larger,
And longer,
It could be your hand there.

In the morning, I crawl out of bed
And I fancy I'm your lioness,
Hair ruffled, stretching for the sun,
All gold, all lonely, while you play with others of my kind.
Rosaline Moray Apr 2013
For all your promises and kind words
You are not here.
I have no faith! That's a fact, and you are faithless to me;
And I believe in that like I believe the Earth is round.

Where were you last night when I wanted to hear your voice?
When I had to endure this person popping in to see you?
Sorry, didn't think anyone was in...
So pretty, this person. Poppy, her name, a scarlet flower
Like the colour of my breaking heart.

Did you tell them I was non-existent?
And do you use me as only an 'imaginary' paramour?
The truth being far too shameful to admit,
That I exist and that I love you, and that it is you who are weak
With your weaknesses for flesh, and sordid flowers.

You cry like a crying of wolves when I leave.
You talk to me sweetly about tiny things,
You give me the edges of the puzzle, and I have to imagine
The bigger picture. I'm living an imaginary life
And that is on your shoulders.

I'm lacking a soul, or so you say, and you cannot see
That it is you who is making my life soulless
Draining my colour, turning me grey.
You act as though it is me who drags you down,
But that is only life my dear, and if you wish to ascend to your heaven,
Truly, you'll find no halting hand from me.
As with all my poems, plagiarism is against the law. Please just show your thoughts by leaving them below, now that, is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Rosaline Moray May 2013
Little Lou,
Picks up a ***** and bucket,
Sand dusting her lips.
Small nose, freckles spreading along pudgy cheekbones,
She's a summer baby.
A lady of the sun.  

Chases ***** with guys.
Lou has scraped knees and a ponytail up high.
Lou is twelve years old.

Loulou is a prissy thing,
Pale arms, skinny and lean.
Laughing to herself.
Hair falls in waves
Shimmering in sunlight.

Louisa, oh Louisa.
She's breaking hearts,
Her tan is from hard work.
She fetches a frisbee from a tree,
Manicured hands,
Gloves for Little Lou's tiny digits.
Rosaline Moray Jan 2014
To say that I am


Would imply that there is
Something left
To fix.

And pain is nothing really.
Nobody feels it except for you.
Therefore it can't possibly exist

I'm so confused.
There's a gun to my head
And it leaves kiss-shaped indents
And I'm bruised black and blue.

In a coma.
Or something like that.
Rosaline Moray May 2013
I used to own the board we shared, your knights,
I had my spies in your Bishops, and your confessions were mine.

I played my strategies so quick,
That I stole your heart without you even registering the thievery.

And as often as you breathed, as often as I laughed,
I would say; 'Checkmate'.

But somewhere along the line I got complacent
And you stabbed me in the back, simply by growing a spine.

I think I've been in recovery for half a year now
Because I've forgotten how to play.

Didn't you at least try to clear the cobwebs in my absence?
Because everything looks so sinister now, and I don't like it.

And everywhere, daisy-chain crowns lie rotten,
Like the wasted queendom of my youth.

But you,
You still proudly wear your crown of bloodied thorns.

And somehow, all my pawns have turned to dust,
And the board has dirtied its way to black.

Everywhere is open to you now,
What once was mine is yours, and yours alone.

And now, I've lost my footing.
By all rules I shouldn't be here

And everywhere I turn,

Rosaline Moray May 2014
This crumbles like
The topping of
Apples baked with so much heat and potential.

Children and sugar - one on the same.
Sweet, but too much in this creation.

Marriage was
Dessert to life
But no crumbs are left;

Consumed by young greedy faces.
Rosaline Moray May 2013
Something presses on my throat.

I think it's my past.

I can't turn round the corner of memory lane

Without seeing

Your face at every window.

My mind feels haunted.

My skin brittle as glass

Too much heat

From embarrassment

Or touch

And I will combust.
Rosaline Moray Mar 2013
Once I was so shy
Wore a groove
In my tooth
From eating my hair

And my words.

I stood still so long
I grew tall,
Pulled by gravity that dragged my head along

Far and far away from the ground.

If that makes sense.

Once, I ****** on Jelly beans.
I chewed on your thoughts
And spat them out
Mangled up

Oddly, kind of improved.

Once, evolution visited me
And like a baby chimp
I grew a broader skull
And thicker skin
And I filled my flesh

Pushing out all air and dust within.
Rosaline Moray May 2014
Not all of these monsters
Who prowl the night
With blood shot eyes
Are to be feared.

Some monsters,
When they love you,
Keep their teeth sharp
For the sole reason of keeping you safe.

And when you grow to love a monster,
You learn to love them in the night time too.
Rosaline Moray Mar 2013
We were innocent

Quite a while ago.

We did not know

That holding hands was draining love

That sharing hats made thoughts too personal

That raindrops melted our skin together

That our frivolous youth

Made us inseparable

And existing impossible

When we parted.
Rosaline Moray Dec 2013
I'm well aware
No pleas, no tears,
Could have stopped your life from drifting away
Through the wounds
Like gas out of a balloon.
Would it be wrong to compare your soul to helium?
You were always so high.
Rosaline Moray Apr 2013
Come to Paris with me.
Let's stick to our plans.
But please, can it mean what Paris means?

Can it mean that this time
My parents will approve
And we can dance in sunlight,
And dip into the shadow of the Notre Dame,
Get married there, if they'll let us,
Because I'd like that very much.

My love, we'd be so far removed
Nobody would ever have to know
And if you'd so wish it
You'd never have to see my face again
In midnight, or alone.

And if you don't come, can't come, or simply won't,
Out of fear of the unknown
Please say I can think of you
For every second of every day,
Because Paris is calling me.
And I have to get out of this tomb.

And Paris is shining like a beacon of light
And I want to get lost in its secrets,
And I want to taste its delights,
So please, if you don't come, can't come, or simply won't,
Paris, be a boy.
Rosaline Moray Apr 2013
Be the best that you can be
Love forever, forget my worth,
And heal a soul, or two.

Mine is a heart that's been dropped more than once
What use is a damaged thing?
My bruises have bruises
But there's nothing you can do about that, now.

Yes, I scream out loud sometimes
When the rain buries the roof
And I drown in a bubble of air.
So I'm sorry, but nothing has changed.

But you're so far away, so don't you worry about that.
Rosaline Moray May 2014
How easily you kiss me,

Like a plaster:
Lay it on.
If you mess things up again, there's more where that came from.
It's a small comfort for a short time
But when you take it away,
It hurts.

And sometimes, it takes part of me with it too.
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