My sister says don’t fuck up. She says that I pull out my red card at the wrong times because I’m not reading the play correctly. I’m not seeing the patterns in the behavior, the movements on the field. Not reading how the play is being controlled, missing the footwork.
Lack of empathy.
Emotional manipulation.
I’m not reading those things correctly and I keep pulling out the red card when, in actuality, I am only supposed to use it twice.
I’m calling all of it Offsides.
It’s an off day, when he forgets to say bye when he leaves the house.
It’s an off feeling when the joke is at my expense.
“Read the fucking play!” She keeps saying. “You know better. Read the play.”
She tells me that I am not using the tactics that I had been gifted with.
She said I’m not understanding the game and I’m letting what’s happening on the sidelines penetrate the play.
“Pay attention.” She says. “Your defense is wonky and you’re gonna wind up relegated. Who the fuck wants that?”
Even though I’m the keeper of my goals, I keep blocking the shots.
Not letting them in because I cannot see.
I want this to go far, I want to win.
But I’m not playing the game the way it's supposed to be played.
“You’re too defensive.” She says.
“Defense wins games.” I say.
Sometimes it is better to be on the attack.