Poetry by Rowan Evans

Author’s Note

There’s a version of struggling that doesn’t look like a crisis.

It doesn’t interrupt your life in obvious ways. It doesn’t demand immediate attention. You can still function. Still respond. Still say you’re okay—and technically, you’re not lying.

But something isn’t right.

This piece comes from that space.

From existing in the in-between—where things aren’t falling apart, but they’re not getting better either. Where anxiety becomes background noise, and depression shifts from something loud and consuming into something quieter… but constant.

And maybe that’s what makes it harder.

Because it’s easier to recognize a storm than it is to notice the air slowly changing around you.

This poem isn’t about overcoming that feeling.

It’s about naming it.

And about acknowledging something else, too—

that even in that space, even with all the noise, there can still be something—someone—that keeps you grounded.

Not as a fix.

Not as a solution.

But as a reason to stay.

— Rowan Evans

Not a Crisis, Just Constant
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I sit—
knees to chest,
arms wrapped tight.

I think I’m losing my mind—
or just lost in it.

I can feel again.

But why am I
still stuck here?

It’s like I’m on the edge—

wandering the border between
social death
and living.

I can hear my thoughts talk—
whispering secrets
meant to stay hidden,
embarrassing memories
I wish I could forget.

Maybe that’s why
I can’t move.

Because I’m stuck
in the in-between.

I want connection,
but I want to be left alone—
because isolation
feels like home.

And that scares me.

I want you to see me.
But the thought of being perceived?

It terrifies me.

It’s paralyzing.

I just want to breathe.
I just want to be—
without my mind
attacking me.

I’m so sick of life
with anxiety.
It’s one of the voices
inside of me.

Depression was a monster—

now it’s just
a low hum.

Not a crisis…

but constant.

I don’t know
if this is healing—
or just another version
of being stuck.

But through all the noise—
all the voices—
there’s still one
that sounds like you.

And somehow…

that’s enough
to keep me here.

Journey into the Hexverse!

[Low Hum]
Depression isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s a quiet presence—a low hum beneath everything. This poem explores that silence, and the small moments that help break through it.

[The Wind Knew Your Name]
A dream of relief turns into something unexpected—the return of thought, feeling, and movement. This poem explores the shift from silence to chaos, and the voice within it that leads the way forward.

[Storm Systems]
A powerful poem using weather as a metaphor for mental health, exploring emotional storms, numbness, and the people who keep us grounded.

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