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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: love from a distance

  • Love Me From Over There | A Humorous Poem About Overwhelm, Space & Love by Rowan Evans

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Love Me From Over There is about wanting someone’s presence without necessarily having the emotional bandwidth for their presence to be… aggressively present.

    Sometimes being overwhelmed doesn’t mean you want to disappear from everyone you love. Sometimes you just want your person nearby, occupying the same little corner of the universe, while respectfully maintaining a distance that prevents you from launching yourself into the sun.

    So this poem takes that contradiction and lets it be funny.

    I don’t want to be alone.

    I just want you to love me from over there.

    — Rowan Evans

    A poet sitting comfortably in a quiet room while a loved one waits affectionately at a respectful distance.
    I want you here. I just need you over there.

    Love Me From Over There
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I’m feeling like I’m stuck in purgatory—
    but that’s fine though,
    I’m not really a fan crowds, so—
    I feel like Heaven would be too crowded,
    and Hell would be way too rowdy—
    see I’m more of a laid-back loner,
    not that I want to be alone all the time—

    I just want to be left alone all the time—

    it’s like, don’t bother me
    and I won’t bother you—
    I’ll live like that
    in the afterlife too—

    basically—
    what I’m saying is—
    I want you here
    but don’t speak to me.
    I don’t mean to be mean—
    I just mean, I want you in my space…

    not in my fucking face.

    Back up.

    Journey into the Hexverse

    [It’s Almost Like I Know What I’m Doing]
    A self-aware reflection on nearly three decades of writing, discovering how rage became rhythm, pain became poetry, and comedic timing became another tool in the poet’s arsenal.

    [The Metaphor Machine]
    A poem that takes apart its own machinery as it runs—breaking lines, breaking thoughts, and following metaphors from moonlight to tides, oceans, shorelines, and city streets.

    [It Could Have Been…]
    A playful little love poem about strawberries, roses, and the wonderfully ridiculous ways romance can show up when you know someone doesn’t like the traditional version.

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

  • The Life of a Witness Poet | A Poem About Loving from a Distance

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Some poems arrive as declarations.

    This one arrived as an observation.

    I’ve often described myself as a witness poet—someone who pays attention, who notices the emotional weather around the people I care about, and then translates those observations into poetry.

    Sometimes that role feels like a gift.

    Sometimes it feels helpless.

    Because witnessing doesn’t always come with the ability to change what you see.

    You can recognize someone’s strength, admire their resilience, ache alongside their struggles, and still be separated by circumstances larger than either of you.

    This poem isn’t about unrequited love.

    It isn’t about sacrifice.

    It’s about accepting that love isn’t always measured by proximity.

    Sometimes love looks like paying attention.

    Sometimes it looks like quietly hoping someone feels a little less alone because, somewhere in the world, another heart witnessed their struggle with compassion instead of judgment.

    That’s the strange privilege—and responsibility—of being a witness poet.

    Not every distance is meant to be closed.

    Some are simply meant to be seen.

    — Rowan Evans

    A lone figure watching moonlight shimmer across a calm ocean toward a distant shore, symbolizing quiet love, witnessing, and emotional distance.
    “Some distances cannot be crossed—but they can still be held with compassion.”

    The Life of a Witness Poet
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    The life of a witness poet—

    it’s harder than you think,
    when your heart bleeds in ink.
    And it only gets harder
    when you’ve fallen
    for the one you witness.

    You see the weight she carries,
    you watch from a distance—
    your hands tied by the tide,
    and the gap—an ocean wide.
    You want to be a light in her life—

    like the moon in the sky.

    You learn to glow quietly,
    hoping she’ll look up someday—

    not for you,
    but for the comfort
    you’ve been trying to give
    from a distance.

    So you learn to love in silence,
    in the spaces between her storms—

    holding what you can,
    honoring what you can’t,
    knowing some distances
    aren’t meant to be crossed,
    only witnessed.

    Journey into the Hexverse…

    [What I’m Trying to Say]
    What begins as an exaggerated promise of love slowly strips itself back until only one simple truth remains: real devotion isn’t found in grand gestures—it’s found in consistently showing up.

    [I’d Rather Try]
    Anyone can promise they’d die for someone. But love isn’t built on one dramatic moment—it’s built on showing up, trying again tomorrow, and proving your words through consistent action.

    [Pointing Me Home]
    The final poem in the No Metaphor Left Behind trilogy explores dreams, hope, and belonging. Through moonlight, ocean tides, and quiet conversation, Pointing Me Home reflects on carrying hope long before reaching the place you call home.

    [Only Waiting]
    The second poem in the No Metaphor Left Behind series, exploring the quiet ache of growing up in a place that never truly felt like home—and finally saying aloud what years of metaphor had been trying to express.

    [Crossing the Sea]
    A deeply personal poem about relocation, longing, and the realization that some truths naturally arrive through metaphor—even when we try to leave it behind.

    [I’ll Be There to See Your Sunrise]
    Love has never come easily to me. This poem explores the fear, vulnerability, and quiet courage required to stay emotionally present when connection begins to matter deeply. “I’ll Be There to See Your Sunrise” is about choosing love despite the risk of heartbreak—and promising to remain long enough to witness someone fully.

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