I’m less interested in what people show the world
than in what they carry when no one is asking.

I’ve learned that silence has weight.

How You Take Your Silence
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I want to go beneath the surface—
to see the substance,
where true beauty lives.

Don’t tell me how you take your coffee:
tell me how you take your silence.

I want to see the things
you’ve been taught to hide:
the tremor beneath your laughter,
the cracks in the walls
where light leaks through,
the fingerprints of your fears
pressed into the corners of your mind.

The corners where your smile falters,
the shadows that dance behind your eyes,
the way your hands betray the calm
you wear like armor.

I want to trace the maps
of the roads you walked alone,
I want to know the weight
of your quiet—

I want to see how it shaped you,
how it made you
the whole of you.

Author’s Note

Silence has its own language.
I’m still learning how to listen.

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