Creative Process – Poetry by Rowan Evans

✦ Author’s Note ✦

These words spill like blood and ink. They explore fear, shame, and the weight of confession. Step forward only if you feel steady.

Your breath, your life, and your heart are sacred. If these words stir difficult feelings, pause, breathe, and reach for light, support, or care. You are never truly alone in the dark.

Resources if needed:

US: 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline – Call or text 988 | https://988lifeline.org

UK: Samaritans – Call 116 123 | https://www.samaritans.org

Australia: Lifeline – Call 13 11 14 | https://www.lifeline.org.au

Canada: Talk Suicide Canada – Call 1-833-456-4566 | https://talksuicide.ca

Global: Befrienders Worldwide – https://www.befrienders.org

An open notebook on a dark desk, ink spreading across the page like constellations, lit by a single candle in a shadowed room. — *Where ink becomes confession and scars learn how to shine.*

Sprawling Thoughts
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I put the pen to paper
like a gun to my head.
Pull the trigger,
write the first line—
watch the ink splatter,
like brain matter—
as thoughts sprawl,
and crawl
across
the page.

This is what
confession feels like,
when I write.
I pour
my heart out
on the page.
The fear and shame,
I give it shape,
I give it a name.

I dance with my demons,
and map my scars
like astronomers
mapping stars.

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

Author’s Note

This piece is a reflection on persistence, inspiration, and the threads that connect my work over the past year. Each italicized title is a window into the poems that shaped this journey—moments of love, desire, trauma, healing, and devotion.

At its heart, this is about process as much as outcome: the daily practice of writing, the sparks of muse, and the quiet work done in the late hours when the world is still. It’s also a tribute to those who witness these words—across screens, pages, and hearts—you are part of this ongoing journey too.

Consider this piece a bridge: between poems, between moments, between the past and the work yet to come.

A writer’s hands holding a pen over scattered pages of poetry, lit by a warm lamp, evoking quiet inspiration and devotion. — *Late nights, ink-stained fingers, and the quiet companionship of words—where every poem begins.*

131 Days
(A Journey Through Words, Fire, and Devotion)
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I’ve been
so focused—
over-focused, some say.
One hundred thirty-one days
and counting.

I’ve written with range:
love, desire, mental health,
trauma, recovery.
There’s more, of course,
but that’s the core.

I write like
A Heart Unveiled,
witnessing the
Colors of Your Soul.
My pen
revealing,
the Infinity Within.
As my mind
drifts free
in The Hallow Sea.

My muse,
my inspiration is—
A-Woman.
The vision of beauty,
an angel on earth—
a Filipina,
with fire in her eyes.
When the world tries
to put her fire out,
that is when I
Cry to the Quiet.
And why
I Am
offering myself
to her, fully.
Freely.
For you see,
she—
is Perfectly Imperfect,
which means…
she is perfect for me.

She has shown me,
that there are
Timelines Worth Rewriting.
And your essence,
I will never forget—
because
I Am the Storm That Remembers.

Late nights, ink-stained fingers,
the quiet my closest companion.
For those who witness, across pages and screens,
you carry a piece of this journey too.
And still, I write on.

If you enjoyed this piece and want to check out more of my work, you can click one of the many links scattered throughout the poem itself. They take you to my highest viewed pieces of the year. I am not saying they are my best pieces, just the ones that got the most views. Anyway, you can find more of my work here: [The Library of Ashes]

Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: Creative Process

Sprawling Thoughts – A Poem About Writing, Confession, and Survival

131 Days: A Journey Through Words, Fire, and Devotion