Poetry by Rowan Evans

Author’s Note

For me–it’s weather.

There are quiet days where everything feels distant, muted, hard to reach. And then there are moments where everything hits at once–fast, loud, overwhelming. Thoughts spiral, emotions intensify, and it becomes difficult to tell whether the storm is passing through… or coming from within.

For a long time, I thought the goal was to avoid those storms.

But the truth is–they remind me that I can still feel.

That I’m still here.

That I’m still alive.

This piece sits in that tension–between numbness and chaos, between drifting and grounding.

Because while the storms keep me aware… there are also people who keep me anchored.

And sometimes, that’s what makes surviving the storm possible.

— Rowan Evans

Storm Systems
Poetry by Rowan Evans

My mind—
it works in weather systems,
sometimes the fog rolls in.

Other times—
the lightning flashes,
thunder rumbles
and my thoughts twist.

They spin and turn—
something cyclonic.

And when the twist tightens,
and the spin quickens—
I leave nothing but destruction
in my wake.

But I guess
you can call me a storm chaser,
the way I chase these storms—
searching for feeling,
just wanting to feel anything.

Because anything
is better than numb.

It’s a reminder
I’m alive.

Honestly—
I forget sometimes,
when I’m feeling
pretty robotic.

Life can get chaotic.
It overwhelms.
It can be too much
if you can’t
center yourself.

You got to go
with the flow,
too—

even when the flow
is a storm.

For me?
That’s where the storms help—
they keep me aware.

And then—her voice,
keeps me
firmly planted here,

so I don’t drift and sway,
and just float away—

her voice
a lighthouse
in all this weather.

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