Poetry by Rowan Evans

Author’s Note

This piece came from that disorienting in-between space—when your thoughts scatter, your body feels unreal, and you’re not sure how you got there. Sometimes it isn’t logic that brings you back. Sometimes it’s a voice. A laugh. A presence that reminds you who you are.

Grounded
Poetry by Rowan Evans

Sterile white walls,
fluorescent bulbs
light the halls—
I stumble
and fall,
sprawled
across the floor.

What was I
even here for?

Vision snaps.
Vision blurs.
Voices heard.

I’m not alone.
It’s me
my thoughts
and I—

Flicker and fade,
between here
and anywhere.

Voices echo.
Voices linger.

Touch—
Soft and grounding,
it brings me back
to myself.

Slowly. Blinking.
It’s her voice…

Her voice echoes,
and reverberates.
A giggle. A laugh.

And I’m back.

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]