Never ask for much But you just kept taking. My heart kept giving But my mind knew you were faking When you said "This will be the last time" But you kept on taking, hurting, using, burning. I wanted to believe, wanted to trust you But "too far" is just one more step toward yearning. You took so much good, even took some bad from me But what you left me with felt like a storm-ravaged home Your inventory of taken things, stolen things, ruined things was huge
But what you forgot to take was my power to write this poem.
Written some time ago when I was remembering a bad period in life.