Author’s Note

Sometimes the hardest place to be is alone with your own thoughts.
Not distracted. Not performing. Not numbed.
Just you—unfiltered, unguarded, uncomfortably present.

This piece isn’t about self-love as a slogan.
It’s about self-confrontation.
About whether you can remain seated when there’s no one left to impress, no one left to blame, and no one left to lean on.

Because growth doesn’t begin when things feel good.
It begins when you stop running.

— Rowan Evans

Can You Sit With Yourself?
Poetry by Rowan Evans

Can you sit
with yourself?
Not on a pedestal,
not on a shelf—
can you fucking
sit with your
self?

In your thoughts,
in your mind—
can you wander,
can you stroll,
or would you be
troubled
by what you find?

Would you bend,
or break—
could you carry
the weight?

Fight the urge
to turn,
to run.

Could you stay…

or would you be
troubled
enough
to leave?

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