You replay my death over and over, Mondays through Fridays without respite. Relentlessly, you drag me back for more. Just when I’m about to give up on life and slip toward the light, you cut me free from the wreckage and patch me up, ready for another go.
Not content to watch me suffer, you drag my family along for the ride.
I watch with pleading eyes as you strap my wife in, my daughter in. You didn’t even bother to secure little Timmy in place before hurtling us toward the brick wall.
I hate being a crash test dummy.
