I’m angry, I’m angry at the boy who said he would love you till the day he died, but I guess he died when he left you. I’m angry at the boy who made you think your innocents could so easily be taken, when it was never his to take. I’m angry that he made you vulnerable, and now you regret ever being so open. I’m angry, because he was a lesson you never signed up for, and we were never meant to learn from the class of heartbreak. I’m angry, and I can’t do anything about it, but say that you’re worth more than what he gave or took, you’re worth more than late nights full of tears and early mornings filled with silence.
You are the warmth in a hug, and the beauty in a sunrise; and I’m sorry that he made you feel like the cold in an empty room and the smoke of a blown out candle. I can only hope that you’ll love yourself again, because a star may feel alone and unwanted, but the world lays in wonder of the beauty that star gives. Your soul is endless, it would be a shame to think anyone could steal that truth.