what gets left behind

catefrances

i saw your daughter the other day
all long limbs
and blonde hair
the bluest eyes
her mother looked at me
like i was the one
who took you away
like i'd somehow stabbed her in the heart
i never did like her
and she never cared for me
we'd known each other since we were kids
she came
thought she'd claim you
swooped down
like some salvation angel
she didn't reckon on your master
the taker of your soul
the crutch you leant on
yo live
to die
she never understood
you couldn't serve two masters
i remember the late night calls
pleas for me to intercede
to be a double agent
on her side
i'd laugh
be cruel
hang up in her ear
she never called during the day
i was always a last resort
i'd know then
that you were called
that Thor himself couldn't rouse you
blissed out
not giving a fuck
about anyone but yourself
she thought a child
would make you wake up to yourself
god if she only knew
perversely the thought of being a parent
made you the child
i never could work out
what it was
she expected of you
but what i did know
was that you were incapable of it
of everything
except getting a hold of
that with which you were killing yourself
i don't know what she tells your daughter
about her father
whether anything at all
not sure of my place
in all this
if it's my place to tell a child
that her father was a junkie
that his addiction consumed his life spirit
that he danced with the devil
loved it
needed it so much
kept going back for more
his dance card never full enough
the lover you cared for
was the lover you died for
what would i say
should i lie and say yes
or tell the truth
and say you hardly knew she existed
that you cared for no one
and nothing but yourself
if she asked
what would i say?