Author’s Note

There comes a point in certain conversations when the words have already worn themselves thin. Promises become repetitions, explanations become excuses, and the silence between two people starts saying more than either of them can manage.

“If You Want to Go” steps into that moment—the moment when frustration stops begging to be understood and starts letting go. Its voice is blunt, impatient, and tired of pretending that another conversation will somehow change what has already been made clear.

Sometimes, the hardest part of walking away isn’t opening the door.

It’s finally refusing to stand in front of it, waiting for someone to decide.

— Rowan Evans

If You Want to Go
Poetry by Rowan Evans

If you want walk—

then walk—

we don’t have to waste our time,
we don’t have to talk—
I don’t want listen to another empty line,
it’s just excuses—talking is useless—

What?

Now you’re mad?

Why—
because I gave you
what you wanted?

If you want to go,
then go—
what do we keep doing this for?

We don’t have pretend anymore—

Journey into the Hexverse

[You Still Pop Into My Brain]
Sometimes, someone from your past still wanders into your thoughts—not because you want them back, but because they once held a place in your everyday life. A reflective poem about disappointment, growth, and the strange persistence of memory after moving on.

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