Poetry by Rowan Evans

Author’s Note

Some thoughts don’t arrive quietly. They repeat, build momentum, and turn themselves into a soundtrack you never asked to hear.

The Strings Won’t Stop takes that experience and gives it a physical sound: violins playing somewhere inside an empty room, each note feeding the fear and keeping the loop alive. The speaker isn’t asking for a beautiful song—they’re asking for silence, for one interruption in the pattern, one change in tempo that might finally give the mind somewhere else to go.

Sometimes the hardest part isn’t finding the words.

It’s getting the strings to stop playing them.

— Rowan Evans

The Strings Won’t Stop
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I sit in an empty room,
listening to the haunting cry
of violins—

I’m just longing
for silence—

but the strings
sing for me—
they sing a song
I don’t want to hear,
it amplifies the fear—
it makes me wonder,
what am I doing here?

But they don’t stop—
the strings sing
and they watch—
I sit in the corner,
and I rock—
back and forth,
listening for the chorus,
or something to break
the loop—
a tempo switch,
a cadence change—
something,
anything
to rearrange
the thoughts in my brain.

Journey into the Hexverse

[A Person First]
A poem about the difference between loving a woman and loving the role someone expects her to play—because partnership requires respect, autonomy, and room to remain a person first.

[Half a Picture]
What happens when someone falls in love with the person they discover through your poetry? Half a Picture explores the strange intimacy between writer and reader—and the distance between seeing someone’s mind through their words and truly knowing the whole person.

[If You Want to Go]
When conversations become nothing more than repeated excuses, sometimes the only answer left is to stop pretending. A raw, direct poem about emotional exhaustion, frustration, and the difficult freedom of letting someone walk away.

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