Author’s Note

The mind has a way of repeating itself.

Patterns, thoughts, loops–they can feel inescapable, like walking through the same place over and over again, no matter how far you think you’ve gone.

Bad Habit is about recognizing those patterns in real time. Not after the fact, not with clarity or distance–but while you’re still standing inside them.

It’s the moment of awareness.

And the quiet decision to not disappear into it.

— Rowan Evans

Bad Habit
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I feel like I’m running in place,
my feet move but I go nowhere.
Terrain’s all the same,
it never changes.

All the trees
in the same place.
All the people
with the same face.

Dreams, perhaps—
or maybe a nightmare?
My mind,
it doesn’t fight fair.

So I’m stuck here.
Wandering,
lost in my mind—
pondering,
you know I have questions.

I was just wondering—
if I reached my hand out,
would you grab it?
Pull me back
from this static?

I know it’s not you
that I’m talking to,
but my brain
paints you so vivid.
So I let myself take time,
I let myself live it.

It’s all inside my mind,
dreams, perhaps
or maybe nightmare.

Maybe it pulls me in,
and wants to keep me there.
Like a ghost of despair,
trying to get me to—
disappear.

But I’m not going
anywhere.
Once I’ve climbed
out of my mind,
and back into the world.

Back into myself,
into clear mental health.
No more fog,
no more static.
No more feeling
like my life is tragic.

Another bad habit.

Journey into the Hexverse

[To Whom It May Concern…] (3/20)

A raw exploration of vulnerability, fear, and self-sabotage—this poem captures the struggle between wanting to be seen and the instinct to hide.

[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.

[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]