I wonder if you watch me, riding shotgun on those crazy adventures I take?
Do I scare you at times?
Push it just a little too close, not a care for what's at stake?
Do you pray for my life, that it is long and full?
Or are you waiting for me, creating those moments that push and then pull?
When I get that million mile stare do you see in my eyes right through 
to my soul?
That life and death have given to my psychopathic heart an unbearable, 
unrepairable hole?
How do you see me now?
If you were still alive you would be impressed but death gives you 
infinite knowledge of my life, shattered, bloody, and messed?
Still, I am stronger how.
Your fatal blow has made me what I am today.
I wonder are you proud of your monster creation or do you get that this 
pain spreads like the plague, the death of a nation?
I am still stronger, there isn't much of anything too bad anymore.
Each night I lie down and I sigh, at least nobody died.
And even then, a thousand minimal deaths I could take.
So few lives I truly cherish.
Maybe his, without a doubt her life means the most, but yours was up 
there with the precious, those who to me meant the most.











copyright 1998, Amanda Vossler
Used by permission