←

Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: restlessness

  • Still Tilting Elsewhere | A Poem About Leaving, Longing, and Becoming

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Some people grow up knowing exactly where they belong.
    Others grow up carrying a quiet sense of elsewhere—something felt long before it’s understood.

    This piece traces that feeling as it moved through me over time: the early moments of disconnection, the private planning, the slow patience of a dream that never burned out. It isn’t about leaving a place as much as it is about realizing that orientation matters more than arrival.

    Not all rebellions are loud.
    Some of them are lived quietly, for years, while you learn how to wait without letting the dream die.

    A person standing at dusk, facing a distant horizon with a compass motif in the sky, symbolizing longing and the pull toward somewhere else.
    Some dreams don’t disappear.
    They learn how to wait.

    Still Tilting Elsewhere
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I find myself
    drifting through my thoughts,
    not lost this time.

    I remember fourteen.
    Hi Hi Puffy—
    Ami and Yumi on the screen,
    seeing Tokyo streets,
    thinking “I hate this place.”
    It was the first time
    I felt the disconnect.

    Suddenly,
    I was hyperaware—
    I didn’t belong here.

    I remember fifteen.
    The first time
    I started planning.
    The first time
    I dreamed of jet engines,
    of taking off,
    making escape.

    I remember sixteen.
    Started speaking,
    manifesting—
    wishing it into existence.
    I remember seventeen,
    when my dream,
    became a quiet rebellion.

    And I was
    only becoming
    more aware,
    I didn’t belong here.

    I remember eighteen.
    Applying for a job,
    I knew I wouldn’t get.
    Simply for the chance to split.
    It was more about the “what if’s,”
    what if they saw something—
    what if they took a chance?

    And then—
    found family
    from the Philippines.
    Two girls of thirteen,
    they became like nieces to me.
    They were the spark
    that stoked the ember,
    that would simmer
    just beneath the surface.

    It’s been
    eighteen years
    since then.

    Eighteen years,
    and the ember never cooled.
    It lived in the quiet places—
    behind decisions,
    beneath routines,
    inside every map I drew
    that didn’t include here.

    And the dream didn’t fade.
    It learned patience.
    It learned silence.
    It learned to wait
    without dying.

    Now,
    I feel the shift again—
    the same quiet pull,
    the same soft rebellion,
    older now,
    but no less certain.

    I still carry that fourteen-year-old
    like a compass in my chest.
    I carry that seventeen-year-old
    like a promise I haven’t kept yet.
    I’ve grown,
    but the compass never changed.
    Every version of me
    still tilts toward somewhere…
    else.

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

  • Slow My Mind – A Poetic Exploration of Restless Thoughts and Fragile Calm

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    I dwell in a mind that will not rest, a labyrinth of whispers and claws. Inhale, exhale—Mary Jane becomes my temporary sanctuary, a borrowed grace against the storm within. This poem is a confession to that restless shadow, a devotion to fragile moments of calm, and an ode to the quiet endurance of a soul perpetually awake in its own chaos.

    Solitary figure in a smoky, dimly lit room, lost in thought amid curling tendrils of smoke.
    Seeking fragile calm in the midst of a restless mind—Slow My Mind by Rowan Evans.

    Slow My Mind
    By Rowan Evans

    I smoke to slow my thoughts—
    ‘Cause my brain, it talks too much.
    In the haze, I steal a breath,
    A fleeting peace, a borrowed hush.

    Chaos claws in every corner,
    Rapid-fire whispers, sharp and cruel.
    Each one a knife against my skull,
    A storm that never sleeps, never yields.

    Mary Jane, my temporary friend,
    In your smoke, the noise may bend.
    You hush the fire, you blur the ache,
    A fleeting balm, a fragile break.

    I light the flame, inhale the calm,
    Feel the tension curl from my palm.
    In tendrils of smoke, I seek a place
    Where the world moves slower, soft, displaced.

    Yet even in your smoky grace,
    I know relief will not embrace
    The truths I hide, the shadows I keep—
    A restless mind, a wakeful sleep.

    Your comfort is a borrowed hand,
    A fragile lifeline in shifting sand.
    And still, I return, inhale, endure,
    For one more moment, one more cure.

    I smoke to slow my thoughts—
    ‘Cause my brain will never rest.
    In this haze, I find my ground,
    A fragile calm, a quiet quest.

    Closing Thoughts

    Even in the haze, even when the mind won’t rest, I endure. One breath. One moment. One fragile shard of calm to hold onto.

    Journey into the Hexverse

    Journey into the Hexverse

    Step into the Hexverse, where ink drips like blood and shadows weave stories of desire, chaos, and devotion. Each poem is a spark—an echo of fire, a fragment of soul. Traverse these realms and meet the voices that haunt, seduce, and illuminate:

    Punchline – Rowan Evans
    – A dark comedy of survival, laughter, and jagged grace.

    Sanguine Serenade – HxNightshade
    – A hymn of forbidden desire, passion, and whispered lust.

    Beneath the Skin – B.D. Nightshade
    – The intimate torment of craving and surrender, a fevered dance with pain.

    Step closer. Let each verse pull you deeper, a winding path through shadow and flame, until you emerge transformed—scarred, awed, and fully awake in the Hexverse.

    ✦ Poetic Commissions by Rowan Evans ✦

    Every word I write is a devotion, a fragment of shadow and light carefully shaped into verse. On my Ko-fi, I offer custom poems, personalized rituals in language, and lyrical messages crafted just for you—or someone you wish to honor, surprise, or remember.

    Whether you seek:

    A poem for a loved one, friend, or muse

    A ritualized or thematic verse for special occasions

    A written reflection to say everything you struggle to

    …each commission is approached with care, reverence, and the intensity of my signature Neo-Gothic Confessional Romanticism.

    ✨ Special Offer: Use code NGCR25 at checkout to receive 25% off any commission until the end of the month. Let these words become your keepsake, your offering, your moment of devotion.

    Ko-Fi