Uncertain Little Pieces of Me
In my contorted diary,
find me scattered and shattered,
with my breath lying next to me, shuddered.
Flip to the page that stands out,
and find me smeared on its floor, bedraggled.
In your utter dismay,
Do not move back:
the words you read are the
things that pull me back.
For slumber only comes to a head at peace,
yet rest won’t do for a soul near mar.
A heart that yearns for an eternal solace,
with gloom summoned and mirth afar.
Afraid of the lurking darkness,
I loom in the worst of times.
Out of nowhere, the darkness extends its prong,
Leaving me forlorn, even amidst a throng.
For your sake, could you not go to the page that says it all?
Do not follow the path that slithers,
down to the arid plains of,
my magnified thoughts,
It’s cloudy in there.
Eerie is the thought I conjure.
Fading is the will to be immortalized.
One may never be enough, even if they try.
Not all can be great, so why bother?
The world fades, my deeds slate,
peace of mind leaves me behind, love passes me by.
So, I chase the unspeakable words in.
When an hour leads to midnight.
And when I kiss the stars goodbye,
I lose the key for a fortnight.
I know why. I like the why.
The reason to keep up with the pace,
a moment when they will all surrender:
The uncertain little pieces of me.
Rhoda Akua Ameyaa and Isaac Frimpong