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Poetry by Rowan Evans

Tag: Self-Expression

  • Alchemist of Ink (All Sixes) – A Poem About Turning Pain Into Power

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    Some poems are confessions.
    Some are exorcisms.

    This one is alchemy.

    Alchemist of Ink (All Sixes) came from that familiar edge—when the weight presses in, when the mind contracts, when the darkness feels like it might finally win. But instead of letting it consume me, I let it become something. I let it turn into ink.

    This poem is about that moment of reclamation.
    About taking what hurts and making it mine.
    About refusing to be only what the darkness names me.

    If you’ve ever felt yourself folding inward—this is for you.
    If you’ve ever made art out of survival—this is yours too.

    A shadowed poet with glowing eyes as black ink pours from their hands, transforming into swirling symbols of power in a dark, gothic setting.
    Turning darkness into language. Pain into power. Ink into alchemy.

    Alchemist of Ink (All Sixes)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I am all sixes when its needed,
    this darkness,
    your hatred feeds it.

    I can feel it—
    crawling up my spine,
    that creeping feeling.
    It twists around my mind,
    contracting.

    I can feel it squeeze,
    as I fall to knees.

    My eyes flicker and flash,
    fade to black—
    as you see
    my face distort.
    Twisted reflection.
    Personified depression.

    Can you see—
    as I begin to bleed ink?
    It pours from me,
    covering fingers,
    hands and arms.

    It twists,
    never relents.

    …

    I’m a motherfucking
    alchemist,
    the way I take my pain
    and change it.
    I’ll write like hell,
    to subtly rearrange it.

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

  • I Am Not Your Puzzle – A Poetic Exploration of Identity, Duality & Self

    Rowan Evans

    Introduction

    This piece explores the tension between external assumptions and inner truth. It reflects on dualities of identity—masculine and feminine, strength and softness, approachability and untouchability—and celebrates the uncontainable self. It is a declaration: I will not conform to expectations; I am fully, unapologetically me.

    Ethereal figure at stormy ocean edge, blending masculine and feminine features, half in sunlight, half in shadow, representing paradox and self-identity.
    “I am fire wrapped in silk. A storm brushing against calm. I am not your puzzle. I am me.”

    I Am Not Your Puzzle
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    They stare.
    They whisper.
    They assign me shapes that do not exist.

    “Man.”
    “Woman.”
    “Something else.”
    All wrong.

    I am fire wrapped in silk,
    a storm brushing against the calm,
    the knife that softens,
    the hand that strikes,
    the laugh that shatters silence.

    They want to understand me.
    They cannot.
    I am not a riddle to solve,
    not a lesson for their comfort.
    I am not for your ease,
    not for your comprehension.
    I am me.

    Masculine. Feminine. Both. Neither.
    A contradiction that hums beneath skin,
    that bends time and expectation,
    that exists fully
    even when the world cannot name it.

    I am tender and terrifying.
    Soft enough to hold your secrets,
    sharp enough to cut illusions in half.
    I am easy to love,
    but impossible to own.

    You think you see me—
    but the closer you lean, the more I slip.
    I will not fit your boxes.
    I will not stand still for your definitions.
    I will not shrink to make your eyes comfortable.

    I am the surface and the depth,
    the ache and the exhale,
    the hand that heals
    and the fire that purges.

    Call me what you want—
    I am not your puzzle.
    I am the storm, the calm, the contradiction,
    the infinite they cannot name.
    I am me.

    And that is more than enough.

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

  • I Am: A Non-Binary, Trans-Femme Poem of Fire, Shadow, and Identity

    Rowan Evans

    Author’s Note

    I am non-binary, trans-femme—a spectrum of fire and shadow, neither confined to the boxes of man nor woman. For ease, I often tell people I am a transgender woman, because too often the world cannot understand someone who exists outside binaries. Too many are trapped in the idea that femininity means woman, masculinity means man.

    This poem is not about labels; it is about being a soul inhabiting a shell, learning to navigate life on my own terms. It is about contradictions, defiance, and the courage to embrace every shade of who I am. I am chaos. I am cosmos. I am me.

    Non-binary trans-femme figure surrounded by cosmic fire and shadow, radiating defiance and self-expression.
    I Am: Embracing contradictions, defying binaries, and shining unapologetically in fire and shadow.

    I Am
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    I wore the masc like a mask, hid in the dark,
    Flash femme, stitch fire, lightning in my heart.
    Binary cracked me, rewired my cage,
    Storm unleashed, spectrum steps on stage.

    Dresses, beards, contradictions collide,
    Ride every edge, galaxy inside.
    Not man, not woman, not in-between,
    Every damn shade you ain’t ever seen.

    Clothes are fabric, bodies are art,
    I throw chaos raw, straight from the heart.
    Love men, love women, souls in the mist,
    Unbound, reckless, impossible to resist.

    Chains trap weak, fear feeds the meek,
    I spit crystal truth, sharp, unique.
    Fire and shadow, silk and stone,
    Galaxy unclaimed, throne my own.

    Shred rules, laugh loud, burn every mask,
    Erase disguise, tear the world a new path.
    Not a girl, not a guy, not a whisper in-between,
    I’m the scream in the void, the spark unseen.

    Clothes are fabric, bodies are art,
    Rebellion stitched deep in my heart.
    Fuck binaries, fuck the norms,
    I live chaos, survive all storms.

    I am every shade, every scream, every spark,
    Shadow at noon, light in the dark.
    Question, answer, flame untamed,
    Chaos, cosmos—I claim my name.

    If you have made it this far and would like to check out more of my poetry, you can find the full archive here: The Library of Ashes.