AlAnoud Writes

I carry storms I never show,
a quiet ache that moves in slow.
Not sharp enough to make me bend,
just there.. an ache without an end.

My thoughts collide, they rush, they race,
fear and hope share the same space.
Nothing settles, nothing stays,
yet nothing breaks beneath the haze.

Excitement hums beneath my skin,
not joy, not peace.. just pulling in.
A signal soft, a subtle sign
that something here is still mine.

Worry walks a step behind,
asking questions I can’t define.
It doesn’t shout, it doesn’t plead,
it stays because it knows I care indeed.

And under all this restless sound,
a deeper stillness can be found.
Not calm from knowing how things end,
but calm that says: I’ll stand. I’ll bend.

I am sad and tangled, torn yet whole,
chaos dancing with control.
Afraid, alive, unsure, yet free..
many truths living in me.