Author’s Note
Made for the Burn is a meditation on intensity, desire, and the kind of connection that ignites something raw inside us. It’s about falling—not gently, not cautiously—but fully into the heat of someone who challenges, awakens, and reshapes the self. This poem honors the fire in others, but more importantly it honors the fire in my muse, and the courage it takes to sit close to it without fear.
— Rowan Evans
Made for the Burn
Poetry by Rowan Evans
I fell for her. No parachute.
I fell for her for the fire,
not the soft or the sweet.
I was made for the burn,
for every lesson heat could teach.
She struck the match just by speaking—
a spark in the dark that lit the fire of my yearning.
And I never wanted gentle anyway.
I wanted the blaze that strips you clean,
the truth that hurts before it heals.
She lit my shadows softly,
laughed the fear right out of me.
I didn’t choose the falling,
but I chose the way I landed—
open palms, open heart, unbroken faith.
But it’s no delusion, I know she’s not mine,
and it’s fine, ’cause I told her I’m not leaving.
I’d be damned if I didn’t stay—
‘Cause I’m no liar,
so I sit as close as I can to her fire.
Feel the warmth brush against my skin,
it’s the only thing that makes me feel alive.
It’s like a drug coursing through my veins,
I feel it inside—it’s what she does to me,
and she does it beautifully,
without even trying.
For more of my poems, explore the Library of Ashes—a curated collection of work that dives into desire, darkness, and devotion.
Poetry by Rowan Evans 