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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: emotional attachment

  • Love Addict (High on Love) — A Poem About Craving, Attachment & Desire

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Love Addict (High on Love) is me taking one of my recurring themes—how intensely I experience love—and pushing the metaphor until it becomes impossible to ignore.
     
    I’ve often written about love as something intoxicating. A rush. A chemical reaction. Something that can make the world feel brighter and the mind move faster. But this poem asks what happens when that metaphor is taken literally enough to become uncomfortable.
     
    Because sometimes I don’t simply want love.
     
    I crave it.
     
    There is a difference.
     
    The language of addiction works here because love can create its own strange cycle: anticipation, euphoria, uncertainty, withdrawal, craving, and the desperate desire for another hit of the feeling that made everything seem worthwhile.
     
    And, naturally, my response to that craving is to write.
     
    That’s one of the things I find fascinating about my relationship with poetry. I don’t merely write about what I’m feeling—I often metabolize the feeling through language. I take the emotion, push it through rhythm and metaphor, turn it over until I can see its shape, and then put it on the page.
     
    So the final joke is also the truth.
     
    I get high on love.
     
    Then I get high on writing about getting high on love.
     
    And apparently, the cycle continues.
     
    Maybe that’s the real habit.
     
    — Rowan Evans

    A glowing crimson heart surrounded by dark shadows, with crimson ink flowing from it into a fountain pen and poetry pages.
    Some people chase love. I apparently write it until the high wears off—and then write another poem.

    Love Addict (High on Love)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I get high on love
    like it’s a drug
    and I’m an addict
    with a habit,
    fighting for every hit
    that I can get—

    if I could,
    I would OD on it.
    Inject it straight
    to my chest,
    in-between the ribs—
    where the heart lives.

    I’d take the risk,
    the comedown, the crash,
    just to feel one moment
    where love doesn’t pass.

    I get the shakes and quake,
    knot in the stomach—cold sweats,
    when love doesn’t sit in the chest—
    it feels fake, not worth the weight.

    Wait—
    what was I saying?

    I get high on love
    like it’s a drug
    and I’m an addict,
    so I write lines
    that expand the mind,
    to feed the habit.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [Poet’s Curse]
    Poet’s Curse explores the painful side of falling too deeply: giving pieces of yourself away freely, taking accountability for your own heartbreak, and realizing that learning to let go can be harder than learning to love.

    [When I Fall]
    When I Fall is a vulnerable poem about loving without reservation, feeling everything deeply, and refusing to make the heart smaller just because wholehearted love can sometimes lead to loneliness and pain.

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

  • Poet’s Curse — A Poem About Heartbreak, Attachment & Letting Go

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    There is a particular kind of heartbreak that doesn’t have a villain.

    Sometimes nobody betrayed you.

    Nobody lied.

    Nobody promised you something they couldn’t give.

    Sometimes someone simply exists, speaks to you, makes you feel something—and your heart decides to build an entire mythology around it.

    That is where Poet’s Curse came from.

    I’ve joked before about having a poet’s curse: the tendency to fall into feelings quickly, to hear a little beauty in someone’s voice and suddenly find myself wading into the waves after it. But beneath the joke is something I’ve had to become more honest about.

    Sometimes my heartbreak is partly mine.

    Not because I was wrong to feel what I felt, but because I have a habit of giving pieces of myself away before I’ve figured out whether there is somewhere safe for them to land.

    The person in this poem didn’t necessarily do anything wrong. She didn’t promise me forever. She didn’t lead me somewhere just to abandon me. She talked—and I listened. I heard a siren’s song, and
    I chose to wade into the water.

    So this isn’t a poem about blaming her.

    It’s about looking at myself afterward and admitting something uncomfortable:

    I learned how to hold on long before I learned how to let go.

    And maybe that’s the real curse.

    Not that I love too deeply.

    Not that I feel too much.

    But that once I give someone a piece of my heart, I don’t always know how to take my hands away from the fire.

    Sometimes the only way forward is to stop calling that weakness a curse and start learning the skill I never had—

    how to let go without becoming less capable of love.

    — Rowan Evans

    A fountain pen and open notebook beside dark ocean waves while glowing fragments of a crimson heart drift away.
    Sometimes the hardest thing to learn isn’t how to love—it’s how to let go of what you’ve already given away.

    Poet’s Curse
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Here we go again
    it’s another season of sin,
    the poet’s back
    heartbroken with a pen.

    Yeah, went and fuckin’
    did it again—

    it’s my fault
    my heart is cracked,
    with pieces missing.

    You see, I give them away
    too freely, it’s such a pain
    to be me, I get hooked
    too easily—

    she did nothing wrong,
    she didn’t lead me on, just talked
    and I heard a siren’s song—

    I waded into the waves,
    prayed for things to change.

    Pardon the moment of slowness,
    give me a moment while I own this
    and take accountability for my part
    in breaking my heart.

    It’s a poet’s curse—

    I only learned how to hold on.
    I never learned how to let go,
    my feelings and emotion
    like hot coals in my hands.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [When I Fall]
    When I Fall is a vulnerable poem about loving without reservation, feeling everything deeply, and refusing to make the heart smaller just because wholehearted love can sometimes lead to loneliness and pain.

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