Tag: mental loops

  • Author’s Note

    Some thoughts don’t arrive quietly. They repeat, build momentum, and turn themselves into a soundtrack you never asked to hear.

    The Strings Won’t Stop takes that experience and gives it a physical sound: violins playing somewhere inside an empty room, each note feeding the fear and keeping the loop alive. The speaker isn’t asking for a beautiful song—they’re asking for silence, for one interruption in the pattern, one change in tempo that might finally give the mind somewhere else to go.

    Sometimes the hardest part isn’t finding the words.

    It’s getting the strings to stop playing them.

    — Rowan Evans


    A solitary figure sits rocking in the corner of an empty room surrounded by ghostly violins, symbolizing anxious thoughts that won't stop repeating.
    Sometimes the mind doesn’t need another song. It needs the strings to stop.

    The Strings Won’t Stop
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I sit in an empty room,
    listening to the haunting cry
    of violins—

    I’m just longing
    for silence—

    but the strings
    sing for me—
    they sing a song
    I don’t want to hear,
    it amplifies the fear—
    it makes me wonder,
    what am I doing here?

    But they don’t stop—
    the strings sing
    and they watch—
    I sit in the corner,
    and I rock—
    back and forth,
    listening for the chorus,
    or something to break
    the loop—
    a tempo switch,
    a cadence change—
    something,
    anything
    to rearrange
    the thoughts in my brain.


    Journey into the Hexverse

    [A Person First]
    A poem about the difference between loving a woman and loving the role someone expects her to play—because partnership requires respect, autonomy, and room to remain a person first.

    [Half a Picture]
    What happens when someone falls in love with the person they discover through your poetry? Half a Picture explores the strange intimacy between writer and reader—and the distance between seeing someone’s mind through their words and truly knowing the whole person.

    [If You Want to Go]
    When conversations become nothing more than repeated excuses, sometimes the only answer left is to stop pretending. A raw, direct poem about emotional exhaustion, frustration, and the difficult freedom of letting someone walk away.

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

  • Author’s Note

    This piece sits at the intersection of introspection and escape.

    Writing has always been where I process things–where thoughts loop, where patterns reveal themselves, where I can be honest in ways that don’t always come out loud.

    But there’s also a point where reflection turns into restlessness.

    Where you stop asking why you feel this way and start asking where do I go from here?

    The coordinates in this piece are real.

    Not just as a location–but as intention.

    A direction.
    A choice.

    Because sometimes the only way to break the loop
    is to move.

    — Rowan Evans


    Person overlooking a city skyline at night with faint geographic coordinates in the sky, symbolizing introspection and escape.
    Sometimes the way forward isn’t a thought—it’s a direction.

    Coordinates of Escape
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I’m in my head,
    all the time—
    introspective
    when I rhyme.

    I’m honest,
    turn the page
    into a confessional.

    The page listens
    when I speak in ink—
    poetry captures the dance
    at the brink,
    as thoughts loop—
    the thoughts loops,
    repeating what I think.

    It makes me feel weak—
    the way my thoughts
    get under my own skin.
    Why am I so fixated on the end,
    when really I want to restart—
    reset, begin again…

    Two feet on distant shores,
    eyes focused—looking forward,
    toward the future—
    with my back to the past.

    I’ll touchdown—
    121 degrees East
    of the Prime Meridian,
    14 degrees and 36 minutes
    North of the Equator.

    If you know where that is,
    you’ll know where to find me.

    It’s goodbye,
    no see you later.


    Journey into the Hexverse!

    [The Voice in the Haze]
    A wandering dream, a voice that feels like memory, and a moment where everything quiets just enough to be found.

    [Right Behind My Eyes]
    A raw and introspective poem exploring dissociation, emotional distance, and the grounding power of love. Right Behind My Eyes captures the feeling of watching your life from afar—and what keeps you from disappearing completely.

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

  • 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


    A person walking through a repeating or mirrored space, symbolizing mental loops and overthinking
    Some patterns don’t break—they repeat.

    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]