my mind is a wasteland of negative thoughts
self-pity, resentment, and fear-- they bury themselves
deep in my mind slowly decomposing, but sometimes are
reborn when I feed them

I would be consumed by dark self destructive thoughts
that would eat me away from the inside, if it was not for my heart sorting and purifying my negative thoughts into good intentions that grow into thoughtful actions to help others

I always thought I could think my way out from the hell I created, but what really freed me is allowing my heart to sing

I needed the help of others who survived their own wastelands
to believe my song was worth singing, their voices carried me
until I found my own melody bubbling inside of me

my heart sings to remember not to loose hope, and reach out to others

In the dark hour
Of your soul,
When midnight's mad
Memories
Flare, and hold
The storm
Massed on your pillow,
And your eyes
Are deeply sallow,
Rest.
Breathe in.
Our wrongs and rights
Fill the nights
With silhouettes
Of what might be,
What had been.
We know
Life's rack is
Laced with phantoms.
Awakened,
We embrace
The light,
And share the struggles
Of the night.

Resentment is drinking a poison and waiting for the other person to die

Its smiling at An enemy when all you want to see is him cry

Its wishisng you were the sun so everyone can look at you with envy but being stuck as the moon alone and empty

Resentment is endless mourning even on the brightest days it'll still leave you yearning.

Be happy for happiness sake or be stuck picking up endless leaves without a rake...

But I didn't mean to fall for you
I didn't mean for our paths to cross
because if I could undo our friendly encounter
I would give every penny of my earnings
everything pound, every diamond
EVERYTHING
because our highs weren't high enough
& our lows caused this darkness to rain inside of me
I swear it was an accident, Cupid made a mistake

If it wasn't for my curiosity,
I would have never of sold the body of my love to the demons of the world for them to get intimate with,
for them to fornicate with.
curiosity kills,
but he was still the
sweetest
piece
of
sin.

I give it up,
I gave my love virginity away
to the seeds of Adam.
The ones that woman was made from the dust of
I need cleansing,
I want what I once had back

If I knew I would have never of
played in loves playground,
and this is all because
of my curiosity.

By Cheyanne Ntangu

The End.

I’m still wondering if you were the best thing
or the worst thing that ever happened to me
I wore a tough face, and yet I was bearing such delicate features
my eyes sung a song of pain and resentment

p.s. good things come to an end because better things come out of it, freedom.

I’m glad it’s the end.  

- by Cheyanne Ntangu