Author’s Note

Weathered lives in the spaces between awareness and change.

It’s easy to recognize patterns in ourselves–the ways we retreat, the ways we protect, the ways we leave before we can be left. It’s harder to sit with them. Harder still to change them.

This piece isn’t about having the answers. It’s about standing in the storm anyway. Letting it hit, letting it string things back, and choosing not to run from it.

Growth doesn’t always feel like progress.
Sometimes it just feels like staying.

Rowan Evans


A person standing in the rain facing a storm, symbolizing emotional endurance and personal growth
Sometimes growth looks like standing still in the storm.

Weathered
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I sit alone,
asking questions—
why am I like this?
Why do I retreat
inside my mind,
when it’s you
I’m trying to find?

I mean—
I know it’s because
you mean too much
to me.

So I panic.

I move inward,
closing shutters
to the world.

I don’t want you
to see me—
not like this,
not when you
can perceive me.

Because to be perceived
for me,
is to be left behind.
It’s happened
more than one time.

So I leave first.
I leave before it hurts.

Again I ask—
why am I like this?
Why can’t I fight this?

I just want to shake it,
stop feeling like a mistake,
be better.
But better doesn’t seem
to be in the cards for me…

So I’ve got to learn.
I’ve got to change
some things—

I need to pull myself
back together,
because this—

this is a storm.
A storm I want to stand in,
feel the wind batter me,
let the rain strip me bare,
and still—
I will weather it.


Journey into the Hexverse

[To Whom It May Concern…] (3/20)
A raw exploration of vulnerability, fear, and self-sabotage—this poem captures the struggle between wanting to be seen and the instinct to hide.

[Same Room (Emotionally)] (3/22)
Can you miss someone you’ve never met? This poem explores emotional connection beyond physical distance and what it means to truly feel seen.

[No Parachute] (3/23)
A poetic reflection on falling in love without hesitation—raw, uncertain, and without a safety net.

[When I Started to Fall for You] (3/24)
A lyrical exploration of love’s intensity—how connection grows, transforms, and reshapes the way we experience the world.

[Bad Habit] (3/25)
A powerful reflection on repetitive thought patterns, emotional loops, and the moment of realizing you’re stuck inside your own mind.

[Same Sky] (3/26)
A poetic meditation on longing, distance, and the quiet desire to share the same space—even when worlds apart.

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

  1. The Luttie Board Avatar
    The Luttie Board

    ·

    The way you portray retreating as both protection and pain feels so true. It is deep. It is something a lot of us feel but do not always have the words for.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Rowan Evans Avatar
      Rowan Evans

      ·

      Thank you — that really means a lot. Retreat has always felt like both safety and ache to me, and I wanted to put that contradiction into words. It isn’t just withdrawal; it’s a survival instinct with its own kind of grief. I’m glad the poem resonated with you.

      Liked by 1 person

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