YOU DON'T GET TO

You wanted to tell my story like you were the author,

I am the ink, the pages, and the fire. My book has been written. Before time exist.

If you wanted me to speak kindly of you…

You should’ve treated me better.

You said my light was too bright, so you dimmed the truth,

Wrote your fiction lines, tried to call it proof.

But I’ve walked through the shadows you left behind. Something you’ll never feel,

I don’t need your version to mock my truth.

Every scar is a paragraph, every tear a page, my pain rewrites my book.

You thought you held the pen, but I hold the stage.

You don’t get to narrate my story,

You don’t get to rewrite my pain.

You don’t get to steal my glory,

Or speak for me again.

I lived it, I breathed it, I bled for that chapter,

Now I’m the truth — and you’re just the actor.

You loved the spotlight when it shined your way,

But hid in the shadows when your lies took stage.

You called it love, but it came with control,

I’m reclaiming what you tried to own.

I found my voice in the silence .

You were just a footnote — I’m the rest.

You don’t get to narrate my story,

You don’t get to rewrite my pain.

You don’t get to steal my glory,

Or speak for me again.

I lived it, I breathed it, I bled for that chapter,

Now I’m the truth — and you’re just the actor.

I forgive, but I don’t forget —

Every lesson, I cash that check. Deposit it into the universe's bank.

I rise from the ashes, golden and free,

The author, the angel — the story is me.

You don’t get to narrate my story.

That pen’s been returned to its rightful owner…

The OA- original angel. writing in light and the stars. That's all I know ✨