Author’s Note

Some feelings don’t arrive gently.

They sit on the tip of your tongue, heavy and persistent, asking to be spoken–but never quite feeling safe enough to say out loud. So they get rewritten, softened, disguised. Butterflies, instead of something darker. Something truer.

This piece is about that tension–the instinct to hide, even when you want to be seen. The way vulnerability can feel less like openness and more like risk.

Sometimes we disappear not because we don’t care…
but because we care too much.

And still–there’s a part of us that keeps trying to come back.

— Rowan Evans

To Whom It May Concern…
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I’m writing this letter to spell out
what I’ve been holding inside.
I’m tired of hiding,
behind wide eyes and
white lies.
Sick of saying butterflies…

They are moths.

They flit and flutter,
light rumble
in the stomach.

Like the lanterns lit.

I’ll admit,
it makes me sick—
the way this hits.
The way it sits,
on the tip of my tongue—
your name.

It’s become a scared thing.

And I care too much,
so instincts kicked in—
I disappeared again.
Silently went within.

I try and claw my way out.

Sometimes I—
don’t know why,
I do the things I do.

Self-sabotage sometimes.

Clinging to anything
to hide behind.
To mask emotion,
to keep me safe.
Because—
vulnerability,
has not always been.

But I will
claw my way
back again. nm

Journey into the Hexverse

[Weathered] (3/21)
A deeply introspective poem about confronting fear, breaking patterns, and choosing to stand in the storm instead of running from it.

[Same Room (Emotionally)] (3/22)
Can you miss someone you’ve never met? This poem explores emotional connection beyond physical distance and what it means to truly feel seen.

[No Parachute] (3/23)
A poetic reflection on falling in love without hesitation—raw, uncertain, and without a safety net.

[When I Started to Fall for You] (3/24)
A lyrical exploration of love’s intensity—how connection grows, transforms, and reshapes the way we experience the world.

[Bad Habit] (3/25)
A powerful reflection on repetitive thought patterns, emotional loops, and the moment of realizing you’re stuck inside your own mind.

[Same Sky] (3/26)
A poetic meditation on longing, distance, and the quiet desire to share the same space—even when worlds apart.

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