Poetry by Rowan Evans

You asked me a simple question—
What was your first impression?
I searched for the words,
tried to shape them carefully,
to mold them into something precise.
But it didn’t matter.

The alcohol kissed my lips,
melting away the barriers,
and the truth slipped free,
unfiltered, raw, unstoppable.

I told you that I saw you—
truly saw you.
Not just the surface, but the ache beneath,
the quiet longing for someone to listen,
someone who would stay.

So I stayed.
Without expectation, without pretense.
I became the ear, the steady presence.
I never planned to fall—
but I did.

So I flirted, dropped hints,
left pieces of my heart at your feet,
hoping you'd see—
hoping you'd believe
you deserved better than what the past had given.

And I wanted to be the one.
The one to break the chains,
to shatter the pattern,
to rewrite the ending.

I promised you—
I would never disappoint.
I would never etch my name
on that list of regrets.

Because how could I live,
knowing I had become 
just another wound you had to heal?