Darlin, you don’t love me, I know, and trust me, it’s alright

Darlin, I don’t need you, I know, and trust me, it’s alright

Darlin, let me feed you, let me seed you, let me lead you

Darliln, let me breathe you, let me make this thing alright

 

You say I’m just confusing, but baby, it’s ok

I say you’re so amusing, look baby, it’s ok

I say this and you say that, look baby, this is where I’m at

You say I should start choosing, no baby, I’m ok

 

Have you loved before my darling? Let me show you how I dance.

Have you touched before my darling? Let me teach you how I feel.

Let us move within each other, let us melt within our skin

Let us touch the depth of endless, let us end where we begin

 

Darlin, you say you love me, I know, and trust me, I’m aware

Darlin, you say you need me, I know, and trust me, I’m aware

Darlin, I have fed you, I have led you, I have planted seeds to grow

Darlin, I breathed in, now exhale, it’s time to go

 

Azza Gallab (c)

Simplicity

I am not solely a silent façade
My thoughts are deafening,
And already you are hard of hearing
You incessantly search for a delusional entrance
My thoughts are sacred
And already you wish to expose me
I am not your exotic decoration
My heart – A Nubian Pyramid, pumps the Nile within my veins and flows the saga of Meroë throughout my holistic self
I am Azza Jallab – It is indeed that simple
Acknowledge me as I am – simplicity is undervalued

Azza Gallab (c)

With That Being Said…I’m done

You veil your insecurities with conceit
But, be assured that your deceit will inevitably greet your lack of humility and eat your façade like a carnivores meat
The emperor wears the invisible garb of his “elite” and boasts his blind defeat…completely exposed.
Flesh so weak, when pierced, it excretes his depleted soul.
You, so weak, when pierced, leak the emptiness of a barren hole
Do not attempt to thieve my seeds with intentions to bear false fruit,
For I sow no compassion within a spirit not worthy to console…
—-
You veil your insecurities with artificial pride
In attempt to hide what resides inside a subsiding essence
You push reality aside and provide a misguided presence
Like an unsuitably glorified horror film lacking suspense
You are quite disappointing…
Hence, as your critic, I put forth my 2 cents
And with that being said,
I’m done.

Azza Gallab (c)

Dear Love

“Dear Love,

I apologize for breathing in your air as if I were immortal these past years. The aroma of your breath is captivating. I have taken advantage of this verity. I wanted to live you at that precise moment eternally. I recognize now, that I was not living you. I was in love with an illusion of you. I was afraid of your kiss. But I am more frightened of living a fallacious love cloaked over an abyss that I would, in time, fall into. So I savor the saccharine from your lips and ingest your breaths perfume. My taste buds bloom flowers of affection as I begin to live you as a being.”

-Azza Gallab (c)

Hands

Though it was exceedingly quick, I caught a glimpse of something I felt the need to see again.

I had arrived at this location that seemed unsuspectingly familiar. Yet, I knew nothing. An opening to boundless paths of passionate force.

Mesmerized, I impetuously walked in and evidently, out, all at once.

Considering that within less than a blink of an eye it had all vanished.

Yet, I was content.

I had felt you.

I had seen without seeing at all.

Your life had spoken to me without words.

And as you gently released my right hand from the grasp of yours, in what had been our initial greeting, I realized, for the very first time, how delicate I was.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have brought my subconscious to life and translated my soul,

Solely so you could understand how I felt.

Love.

And though my knowledge makes up the sum of one granule of sand compared to your seashore of struggles and understanding,

My soul has marched along the rough paths composing each intricate crease within your two

Black,

Powerful,

African hands,

Engrossed the history of your mind,

And strived to mend any wounds left on your spirit.

I am still learning.

Each gaze within your eyes conveys a story I know, but had forgotten.

Azza Gallab (c)

Oxymoronic Truth Does Not Inspire Me Anymore

Inspire me world!

Inspire me life!

Inspire me…

For the moment I retire shall be untimely

Timed

Oxymoronic truth used to inspire me

But not anymore

I was once inspired

But not anymore

My vision is dull anymore

Or…

Your vision is dull?

Or

This vision is dull

I see that I cannot see anymore

You see?

This box is full to capacity with lackluster nothings

I am so anxious for nothing

I am trying to make something out of nothing anymore

It’s there,

The sensation.

These tingles cause utter frustration

I adore them

I am absolutely mad

Why am I not inspired anymore?

It is difficult when:

“You can only die each morning

And live again in the dreams of the night”

With Fenton Johnson

He is not here anymore

But, I shall see him tonight

Only then, will my thoughts ignite

Inspiration

Until I wake to see

Nothing

Until I wake to hear

Something

Common sense telling me to “keep on”

“God is freedom”

Allahu Akbar

Words have become my vision

Why am I not inspired anymore?

Sense is not common

Words have been tainted

And yet I “keep on”

For the moment I retire shall be untimely

Timed

My uninspired soul inspires me anymore

Though, oxymoronic truth does not inspire me anymore

I am absolutely mad

Azza Gallab (c)

This is not the beginning

This is not the beginning…

I’ve been imprinting my strides, though I’m not quite sure how far I’ve come.

I am not winning;

This is not a race, although I run with erratic pace towards the pursuit of a finish line,

A conclusion which may or may not even exist.

Nonetheless, I persist on imprinting my stride.

My pride within each glide, of vast extent, these glorious Sudanese legs have been adept to abide.

My thoughts, though inconsistent, are rhythmically coherent.

Which places me in this exceedingly distant existence called “the soul of a young powerful female gazelle.”

It’s far out there in a space of liberation that rains eccentricity without end.

I am saturated with infinite droplets of individuality which devise an alluring fog pleasantly perfumed of sweet seduction.

Many endeavor blindly through this potent mist of my-self, in search for the source of this production.

This is not an introduction, nor is it a mystery for ones mystified mentality.

This is me.

One cannot read me with a blind state of mind.

There is no brail within this cloud.

One cannot interpret me consistently, for I… cannot even do that.

So, I am taking my strides with erratic pace.

And, right now, I’m in this passionate place of panic.

Love has been re-placed right in front of my face.

So I take out my canvas, and attempt to sketch out my tender embrace

I erase sketched flaws so as to draw perfection

I erase to the point that I expunge this precision

Realizing that perfection has lead me down an endless direction of falsified affection,

This is my rough draft, life is a rough draft

So I stopped drawing

And now, I’m here,

Writing with erratic pace towards the pursuit of an imperfect conclusion…

Azza Gallab (c)

Manipulation is your second name

Manipulation is your second name

You live a life of dissidence while dictating those you have given life to

What is life, if one cannot breathe?

You thieve my breath, because you lived as an asthmatic adolescence

I cannot prevent you from stealing my breath when you are the root of my initial inhalation

I retain your kryptonite

Yet, I refuse your, at times, tempting suffocation

Only because it would destroy both you and me alike

That is the problem

We are alike

Still, I would never do as you do

Do not use doctrine to rationalize this psychological enslavement

Do not feed me interpretation concealed as air

For I have also inherited your intellect

There is an everlasting missing peace/piece to this puzzle within these seconds

Minutes

Hours

Days

Weeks

Months

And years

That peace/piece is the life that I long for

The life that I long for is omnipotent

I have faith, as do you

I love you

Azza Gallab (c)

Definition

Trapped…

I am in a position that is challenging to escape and in which I feel confined,

Restricted

And in the dominance of another…

Someone, something…

An entity who is utterly distinct from an

Alternative:

Defined as the option of selecting between two unlike things or courses of

Action:

The process of doing something to accomplish a purpose

The reason for which I shall emancipate

Liberate my ensnared… Something

An unstipulated, undisclosed object, phenomenon, expression…

Or Feeling

Perceived physical or mental sensation

I have lost touch,

Misplaced my perception of true sensation

I want to feel

I do not want transitory episodes of counterfeit bliss used to impede my despair

I –am–numb

Stolen are the vibrations of myself

Lost

Emancipation, where are you?

You were my confidant as a child

Then I grew, physically

You matured mentally

Sensibly…

I abandoned freedom for

Imitation exhilaration

Trapped

Yet again…

Drowning in the depth of double standards

Perplexed in a puzzle unbounded

I want my companion back

I ask for forgiveness

I am not a beggar

But for you

I am willing to beseech to

Maximum infinity

The largest upper limit of limitless time, space or distance

~

Dehydration

Water evaporates throughout the sweltering sun-drenched summer

Mirages transform to greater delusions of deluge

Monsoons flood my mind

I am drowning in the depth of double standards

And you cannot save me

For I have abandoned you

Thus… I have abandoned

myself …

Azza Gallab (c)