Author’s Note
Returning to the Same Page
I originally wrote I Started Writing for Me (I Kept Writing for You) on October 6, 2024.
Nearly two years later, on September 27, 2026, I came back to it.
I wasn’t trying to replace the original. I wanted to see what would happen if I approached the same poem from a different place in my life—same foundation, same heart, but a little more distance between the person who wrote it and the person reading it now.
The original was written as a reflection on why I started writing: at thirteen, poetry was private. It was where I put the things I couldn’t say anywhere else. Over time, though, those private words became bridges. The poems stopped existing only between me and the page and started reaching other people.
That’s still true.
But revisiting the poem made me realize that some things don’t need to be abandoned simply because you’ve grown. Sometimes you return to an old piece and discover that the person who wrote it was already saying something you still believe—you just have more language for it now.
This remix is therefore not a correction.
It’s a conversation with my younger poet-self.
The original asked why I started writing for me and why I eventually kept writing for you.
The remix asks what that answer looks like now.
The ink changed slightly.
The poet changed considerably.
But the reason I keep writing?
That part hasn’t changed.
— Rowan Evans
I Started Writing for Me (I Kept Writing for You) (Remix)
Poetry by Rowan Evans
I started writing for me,
a whisper in the night,
with ink as my solace—
my heart took its flight.
At thirteen—
I spilled secrets,
raw and unrefined—
pouring out my soul,
seeking peace of mind.
In the quiet of shadows,
I danced with despair—
words wrapped around anguish—
a truth laid bare.
But the world felt so heavy
and I seldom would share—
my verses held captive,
caught in the air.
Then came my twentieth birthday—
a surprise I could see,
a dawn breaking softly;
I hadn’t thought I’d be.
With each passing year,
I unfurled like a rose—
exploring my journey,
the darkness I chose.
My pen became magic,
transforming my pain—
in the depths of my sorrow,
a beauty would reign.
For in life,
shadows enhance the light—
without the dark’s embrace,
we lose sight of the bright.
I wove personal stories
into universal truths—
crafting connections
through my letters and oaths.
Every poem a testament,
a bridge built anew—
an exploration of love,
each word just for you.
My poetry’s a mirror,
reflecting the maze
of identities tangled
in a delicate haze—
inviting you closer,
to embrace what you feel—
for in every line penned,
there’s a wound that can heal.
Writing is my sanctuary—
where pain turns to art.
Illuminating the depths,
illuminating the heart—
so I keep writing for you
with each turn of the page—
a tapestry of voices,
a life I’ll engage.
Through the shadows and light,
I find strength to be free—
in the dance of my verses,
I write endlessly.
For the journey’s not over—
the ink flows anew,
I started writing for me—
but I keep writing for you.
Journey into the Hexverse
If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]
