AlAnoud Writes

G- 2023

I am tired in a way that rest won’t mend,

A quiet weight with no clear end.

Not tired of work, nor tired of try,

But tired of holding what passes by.

I stand prepared, my voice held low,

Three steps ahead of what they know.

I carry more than I am named,

Give without being fully claimed.

I watch things circle, slow and near,

Titles unspoken, promises unclear.

They hover close, yet never land,

As if commitment needs a hand.

There’s anger here I do not show,

Too sharp to let, too calm to grow.

Beneath it rests a softer plea:

To be met where I already be.

I ask no praise, no grand display,

No spotlight cast upon my way.

Just simple truth, aligned and fair .. 

Let what I hold match what I bear.

I’ve been ready, long before

Readiness knocked upon the door.

And waiting now feels less like grace,

More like absence taking space.

If something binds me, let it stay,

Spoken clearly, not delayed.

If something comes, let it be known,

With a name, a shape, a tone.

Or else I’ll loosen what I hold,

Not from anger, not from cold,

But clarity that softly sees

When staying asks too much of me.

For I am done.. calm, not afraid!

Standing ready, over-stayed.

The door I wait for, I now know,

Was mine to open long ago.