Poem Hunter
The Things You Took From Me
ML (March 1977 / Eastern Washington)

The Things You Took From Me

A mind filled with every knowledge of you
My heart pounds at your nearness
I breath you in and exhale your perfume
Eyes that shine with your returned stare of knowing
Hair brushing your face in loving tenderness
Lips grazing lips, curling up into mischievous smiles
Arms wrapping your parts to mine
Fingers testing the flesh of your body
Nails bitten in anticipation
Breasts that only your hands command
Stomach that aches for your fullness
Legs entwining with yours, keeping you close
Feet to run wherever you go
Are of no use now.
My mind dies with every thought of you
My heart, you tore out and never gave back
Eyes that will never shine again
Hair that is lax and dull
Lips cracked and painfully sore
Arms have lost their will
Fingers are for working… there is no pleasure anymore
Nails are of no consequence
What do I care what they look like now
Breasts are for the nourishment of children
Oh, but what a sight they used to be
My stomach is always empty, nothing satiates
Legs enable me to walk, but back to what I do not know
Feet that take me nowhere I want to go
Now you’re gone
And you took me with you, only I’m standing right here

User Rating: 4,9 / 5 ( 4 votes ) 5

Comments (5)

A passionate writ of instrospection! My best to you......
I a disagree with Raynette (frequently, and again) on this one. I love the contrast of the first 'stanza' with the second. The disembodiment all the way down to the Nails is riveting. I would say 'are' instead of 'I'm' in some places, and OK I agree with Raynette on one point. No need to say 'without you I'm nothing'. Sorry to meedle so much, but this was my favorite so far of yours.
It's so femail. You write for all broken hearted women. Beautiful.
i enjoyed it..thank u
Moriah, if I might say so, I think your poem begins with 'My mind that dies...' Your title, 'The Things You Took From Me' don't need a rehash of how good it once was. You might think of a new beginning line but leave the past in the past...and make your list of what he took from you. Did he really take your breasts or your memories of what he did with your breasts? I don't care for the line 'I am nothing without you, ' as this is what you want the reader to feel without your saying it. You are a poet... and he left you a poet writing about pain. Raynette