I do not envy the mother you made her become.
Anyone can open their legs and conceive your pretenses of love.
I do not pity the regret you had for ever leaving me for this false emotion...
This desperate grasp of freedom when I held you accountable for what you did with it.
I do not respect that you ran away from the mistakes you made guided with haze and a bottle of cheap resolve.
I didn't break you, so I have no intention to buy your escape out of the cycle that your father left you with.
The child you bore is the only part of you that concerns me.
I pity her face because it bears the remainder of your strength.
I envy her ignorance because she still sees you with unconditional dependance.
She does not call me mother, but I love her still the same
As I had loved you.