←

Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: flustered love

  • 2026: A Confessional Flame — Neo-Gothic Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    2026: A Confessional Flame is my manifesto for the year ahead—a declaration that I will not shrink, apologize, or temper my fire. This poem is for anyone who has felt their inner chaos, their flustered love, and their impossible hope collide with life, only to turn it all into creation. It celebrates the contradictions, the failures, the stumbles, and the moments of exalted clarity that makes us fully human.

    This is me stepping into 2026 as the poet I have always been: unapologetic, contradictory, luminous, and uncontainable. I will write, I will love, I will defy, and I will rise from every ash left behind.

    — Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans-style poet standing in a twilight cityscape, holding a glowing pen like a torch, surrounded by swirling papers, flames, and ethereal sparks; a neo-gothic, mystical scene.
    Entering 2026 with fire, ink, and a pen as a torch—Rowan Evans lights the year with unrelenting poetry and confession.

    2026: A Confessional Flame
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I walk into this year
    like a wildfire with a pen,
    smirking at the calendar
    as if it dares to try me.

    Last year left ashes in my hair,
    but I turned them into ink,
    carved confessions into the walls,
    kissed chaos like it was home.

    I am still the heart that bleeds,
    the mind that spins,
    the shield that laughs in the face of storms,
    the child who throws Pokéballs at the universe
    and watches lightning ricochet.

    I will stumble.
    I will falter.
    I will fall.
    And every time, I rise—
    writing liminal static into gold,
    flustered love into confession,
    every impossible hope into fire.

    2026—watch closely:
    I am the neo-gothic heretic,
    the luminous fool,
    the poet who refuses humility—
    when the world whispers “shrink.”

    I shout: “No.”

    I exist in contradiction,
    I am the chaos you didn’t plan for,
    the poem you can’t stop reading,
    the confession that refuses to end.

    So here’s my vow:
    I will love hard.
    I will write harder.
    I will fight Gods for migraines
    and light stoves like they’re suns.

    I am Rowan Evans.
    I am flustered, feral, unstoppable.
    And 2026?
    Try to keep up.

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

  • Rewired (Flustered & Yours) | A Poem About Desire, Breathlessness, and Emotional Rewiring

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Some moments are so intense, so ridiculously consuming, that your body forgets how to function, your words trip over themselves, and your thoughts scatter. Rewired (Flustered & Yours) comes from one of those moments—a truth too big for neat packaging, too raw for polish.

    This poem is about what it feels like when a single person rewires your entire system. When one word, one message, one call can leave your chest racing, your lungs screaming, and your mind spinning. It’s messy. It’s unhinged. It’s completely, unapologetically honest.

    Not every confession arrives clean. Not every feeling lands gracefully. Some of them stumble, fumble, and fall—just like the words in this poem. And yet, that’s the point. This is the closest I’ve come to capturing what it feels like to be utterly, irreversibly flustered by someone who matters more than anything.

    Illustration of a person surrounded by glowing abstract lines around their chest and throat, symbolizing emotional rewiring and breathless desire.
    Breathless, rewired, and undone.

    Rewired (Flustered & Yours)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    One word—I’m shook. 
    Shaken to the core. 
    Bend me, break me, 
    you’ll have me— 
    begging for more. 
     
    My tongue tied, 
    knots that try and stop 
    the words. 
    They slip, tumble, 
    fumble from my lips. 
    Tripping over themselves, 
    but I wouldn’t want to be— 
    anywhere else. 
     
    And it hurts a little, 
    but I kind of like it though. 
    I’m so— 
    masochistic. 
    In love with you, 
    so sadistic. 
     
    It’s like a— 
    slow burn on my skin, 
    it’s become my favorite sin. 
    So when you look at me, 
    my brain forgets how to breathe, 
    automatically. 
    I’ve got to think about it, 
    I have to do it 
    manually. 
     
    Inhale, my lungs yell, 
    as I become light-headed. 
    Struggling to keep 
    my thoughts straight. 
    As my brain races, 
    but not in the way 
    I’m used to. 
    You are the cause, 
    this is what you do. 
     
    Exhale— 
    feel the air 
    stick in my lungs. 
    Like my body is in 
    full protest. 
    Not against you, 
    but against 
    what it’s supposed to do. 
    It’s like I’ve forgotten 
    how to survive. 
     
    Like knowing you, 
    has rewired 
    every part of me.
    This is what it looks like—
    how you fluster me.
    How you’re everything
    I crave.
    The way one word,
    can make me cave.

    The rhythm in my chest?
    It beats for you.
    These lungs,
    they breathe for you.
    It’s like you’ve claimed me,
    without staking a claim—
    I’m just sayin’,
    I’m yours.

    Curious for more? Step into The Library of Ashes, where every poem has a story to tell.