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.