My resilience shocks no one more than me.
I keep getting run over by speeding cars and thrown for yards to land in a bloody heap
In a deep ravine.
Each time I’m convinced I’m finally dead, and it seems to take longer and longer to recover.
But as soon as I have any strength stored, I climb and scrape my way back up to that damnable Highway Miles High,
Hoping someone will offer me a simple ride to safety,
Knowing full well I’ll only be Road-Killed again.

(I don’t know why, but this sort of survival recklessness works for me).

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