Author’s Note

I’m just… sitting here trying to figure out how to put all of this into words. These poems—they’re not tidy. They’re not meant to be. They are me trying to talk to myself, to the child I was, to the person I am now, to anyone who might understand.

I’ve been writing for over twenty-two years. Twenty-two. I started when I was thirteen, barely a kid. By fourteen, I was deep into Japanese music, culture, media… then Korean, then Chinese. I lived a Japanese life in America. Movies, music, shows, rituals I made in my head—I was building a world where I felt like I belonged, even if the world around me didn’t make sense.

I was also depressed. Anxious. I felt different from everyone else, but nobody really said why. Autism wasn’t mentioned. I didn’t have the language for it. Gender identity—same thing. I didn’t feel the things “I was supposed to” as a boy. I felt disconnected. I felt unseen. I felt untethered. I still sometimes do.

I asked my parents, over and over: where are we from? Beyond the U.S., what’s our heritage? They said we were mutts. And yeah, I get it. But it left me with this gnawing emptiness—a gap I couldn’t fill. I tried to make sense of it all, but there wasn’t a clear answer.

These poems are me talking to that inner child. Roo the Poet is that child’s voice—the part of me that’s been scared, lonely, unheard, and also resilient. They are a dialogue, a witness, a reminder that even when life is overwhelming, even when the world is messy and cruel, I—we—can keep moving, keep dreaming, keep reaching for light, even when it seems impossible.

They are raw. They are messy. They carry grief, rage, confusion, hope, and the quiet fire of persistence. I’m putting them here because I need them to exist. Because I need to say: it’s okay to feel all of it. It’s okay to be broken. It’s okay to question, to rage, to cry, to laugh, to search, to not have the answers.

I hope anyone reading this feels some part of it too. The fear, the hurt, the wonder, the resilience. The poems are my way of saying: you are not alone. The child inside you is still here. The voice that whispers your truths is still here. And maybe, just maybe, we can keep walking forward together.

— Rowan Evans

The Child & The Future
Poetry by Roo the Poet featuring Rowan Evans

[Roo the Poet]
Tell me, have we made it?
Did our dreams take flight?
Do our words now dance on pages,
Spilling truth in black and white?

I held the light so tightly,
Afraid it’d slip away,
But I kept it burning, flickering,
To guide us through the grey.

[Rowan]
We’re not there yet, but we’re close,
Closer than we’ve ever been.
And Roo, it wouldn’t be possible
Without the fire you lit within.

You taught me to hold on,
Even when the night grew cold.
That light always casts a shadow,
But both are stories to be told.

[Roo the Poet]
Do we still dream in color,
Like we did when we were small?
Do we still believe in magic,
In the rise after the fall?

Do we still whisper wishes,
To the stars beyond the pane?
Do we still chase the echoes,
Of our past, through joy and pain?

[Rowan]
We dream, Roo, oh, we dream,
But now with eyes wide open.
We shape the stories with steady hands,
No longer lost, no longer broken.

The magic never left us,
It just grew in different ways—
In the strength of ink and paper,
In the fire that never fades.

[Roo the Poet]
Then I have no fears, no sorrow,
For the path we’ve yet to tread.
Because you still carry the child I was,
Even as you forge ahead.

So promise me, no matter what,
That light will always stay?
That the shadow won’t consume us,
That we won’t be led astray?

[Rowan]
I promise, Roo, I swear it true,
The light will always shine.
Because you’re the voice that kept me strong,
The heart that still beats inside mine.

So walk with me—hand in hand,
Through darkness, through the dawn.
For every dream we’ve yet to chase,
Together, we’ll carry on.

Lost in the Why
Poetry by Roo the Poet

I don’t understand why the sun feels colder,
Why laughter sounds distant, like echoes in stone.
They say time will heal, that pain makes us older,
But I still feel small, lost and alone.

The world keeps moving, but I stand still,
Feet stuck in puddles that no one else sees.
I try to be strong, to bend to their will,
But inside, I’m just whispering, “Please.”

Please tell me why the stars seem dimmer,
Why warmth feels like a memory’s trace.
Why grown-ups cry with voices that quiver,
Yet smile like grief doesn’t leave stains on their face.

I reach for the hands that once held me tight,
But fingers slip through, like sand in the breeze.
Was I meant to lose before knowing the light?
To learn that love sometimes leaves?

I hide my heart in paper-thin walls,
Shielding the child I used to be.
But each crack whispers, each shadow calls,
That pain is the price of growing free.

I don’t understand why the sun feels colder,
But I’ll carry its warmth in the way that I shine.
Even if grief makes my shoulders older,
I’ll still hold space for the child inside.

The Past & The Present
Poetry by Roo the Poet featuring Rowan Evans

[Roo the Poet]
Are you tired, Rowan?
I see your tears, your sad eyes,
but you’re still standing—
a little wobbly, but you’re still standing,
like a toy with no batteries,
but you keep going, don’t you?

[Rowan]
It’s hard, Roo.
I feel like the wind keeps pushing me,
and I just… bend.
How do I keep going when I don’t know where I’m going?

[Roo the Poet]
But you are going, right?
Like a tree with roots way deep in the ground—
You bend, but you don’t break.
The wind can blow and blow,
but you stand up, because you’re strong inside.
I know you are.

[Rowan]
I don’t always feel strong.
I feel like I’m falling apart sometimes,
like the world is too big,
and I’m just too small to do anything.

[Roo the Poet]
You’re not too small!
You’re big and strong like the moon,
even when it hides behind the clouds.
It’s still there, shining real bright,
even if we can’t see it.
I’m like that too.
I’m always here, like the moon.

[Rowan]
But what if I can’t find my way back to the light?
What if the pieces of me just don’t fit anymore?

[Roo the Poet]
Then we make new pieces!
We glue ‘em together,
make a brand new picture!
It’s okay to be a little broken.
Everyone’s a little broken sometimes.
But that doesn’t mean you’re not special.

[Rowan]
I don’t know if I can be fixed, Roo.
I’m too tired.

[Roo the Poet]
But you CAN be fixed, Rowan!
You just gotta be patient.
It takes time, like putting together a puzzle.
And sometimes, you have to wait
for the pieces to find their place.
But that’s okay—
you’ll figure it out. I know you will.

[Rowan]
And what about you?
You always know what to say.
How are you so sure that everything will be okay?

[Roo the Poet]
Because I trust you, silly!
You’re like a little seed that will grow
into the biggest flower,
even when it’s all dark and hard.
I know you can do it, Rowan.
You’ll bloom, I promise.

[Rowan]
I don’t feel like blooming yet.
I just feel stuck, like I’m caught in the mud.

[Roo the Poet]
You’re not stuck!
You’re just waiting, like a flower needs the rain.
The sun will come, I KNOW it will.
And then you’ll be all bright and pretty.

[Rowan]
But what if I miss the sun?
What if it doesn’t come for me?

[Roo the Poet]
Then we’ll make our own sun!
We can draw it, paint it, make it real big!
We don’t have to wait, Rowan.
We can shine all by ourselves.

[Rowan]
I didn’t think I could do it alone, but you…
you make me feel like I can try.

[Roo the Poet]
You don’t have to do it alone.
I’m right here.
I’ll help you, always.
I’ll be your sunshine when it’s dark.

[Rowan]
Thank you for still fighting for me.
Thank you for never giving up on me.

[Roo the Poet]
I won’t ever give up on you, Rowan.
You’re my best friend.
And I’ll always be here.
You’re stronger than you know.
And you’re never, ever alone.

[Rowan]
I think I can start believing that.
I think… I think I’ll be okay.

For those who feel these questions, this fire, and this search for self, my poem ‘I Am’ continues the journey—raw, unbound, and unafraid.