Poetry by Rowan Evans

🖋 Author’s Note

This piece is my unspoken vow to my muse — the one who taught me that love can exist in stillness, that silence can speak louder than the loudest confession. It’s a promise born not of performance, but of reverence — that I would quiet even the voice I’ve spent a lifetime sharpening if it meant protecting the peace of the one I love. Some loves demand poetry; others demand the surrender of it. This is mine.

I Love You (Enough to Go Silent)
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I love you—
not in the way
that clichés say,
“I’d give my life for yours.”
Anybody can die.
But I—
I’d give my voice.

Not the one
that comes from my mouth,
but the one
that drips from my pen—
the voice that spills
into ink and pages,
distilling
every thought that rages.

And I mean it.
I love you—
enough
to give this up,
to never write again.
To let the ink run dry,
if that’s what it took
to keep the tears from your eyes.

If you enjoyed this piece and want to check out more of my work, you can find it in [The Library of Ashes]…

The Other Vows

[I Love You (Enough to Break Willingly)]
A vow whispered in ink and ache — love not as surrender, but as shared endurance. “I Love You (Enough to Break Willingly)” is Rowan Evans’ second vow, a quiet confession of devotion that chooses breaking over leaving, and burden over indifference.

[I Love You (Enough to Learn You)]
A vow of love and understanding—learning the language of another’s heart, putting them first, and listening when words falter.