Author’s Note
Sometimes love sits just behind the teeth—aching to be said, yet held back by care, timing, or fear of changing what already feels sacred. I Love— (A Dam About to Break) was born from that space between silence and confession, from a dream that lingered like static under the skin.
It’s not about saying the words out loud. It’s about honoring what they mean, and recognizing the quiet pressure of emotion when it’s both too much and not enough.
This is a poem about restraint, longing, and the kind of connection that hums quietly beneath the surface—steady, dangerous, and deeply human.

I Love— (A Dam About to Break)
Poetry by Rowan Evans
I crashed—
Two hours.
A nap.
Awoke to the residue,
the images faded.
Obscure. Background haze.
The only clear picture—
Your face.
The feelings clear.
Safe. Close.
Anxious.
Our connection,
and the words
on the tip of my tongue.
“I love—”
the idea of getting close to you,
as friends of course. (And maybe more.)
I try to change the course
of my thoughts. (They always circle back.)
The words linger,
like a rug burn—
or the water pressing
against the wall of a dam.
A dam quickly weakening.
About to break,
about to flood. (Evacuate the valley below.)
Just know—
I don’t take it lightly,
the trust you put in me.
That’s all I ever wanted—
was to earn that,
to know that you saw me—
saw I was true,
and there for you.
Like I said I always would be.
Always will be.
I’m still not going anywhere,
still not gonna leave.
And I’ve got
so much I want to say.
It rests right there,
on the tip of my tongue.
Even my lips refuse
to stay closed—
and words slip through.
I just wanna say—
“I love—”
how close we’ve gotten
over the last year.
I can’t wait until we can be
face to face, side by side.
I know it’ll be the best time of my life,
and I hope it’ll be yours too.
Because you deserve it,
a moment of peace, a moment of clarity.
And I don’t say that out of pity or charity,
I mean it.
With every fiber of my being,
I truly mean it.
And if I could say
everything I want to say,
maybe things would change.
But I’m trying to keep restraint—
because I don’t want to add pressure
or stress.
The asshole does enough that.
I just want to be—
one of many reasons you smile.
I don’t need to be the only one.
I don’t need to be the core source
of your happiness. (I just want to be part of it.)
So please, try to believe when I say…
“I love—”
Everything about you.
There is not a thing I would change,
or rearrange.
Your attitude is perfection.
The way you talk your shit,
I love it. (No really, I do.)
You say you’re crazy?
Well I love that too. (Your crazy makes me accept mine.)
If you enjoyed this piece, check out my full archive here: [The Library of Ashes]
