Big Red

I overanalyze and overcompensate
With anxious tries to somehow save
The situation, but verbalize
What I shouldn't say, and
Find us fit in overtime with the
Same quips and daily aggravations
Which no one really wants to play
Still, my mouth keeps throwing
Words away
Too stubborn to forfeit or find negotiation
At ends, I so eliminate the competition—
Which respond in calling the day
And refusing stall, to listen—

Guilty for my 

Wrong Thing

Wrong Time

Wrong Place

Wrong Line

Associations

Catastrophe seems to be obsessed with me
But this isn't fair, I can't help
To breathe villainous air
On a hero's street
I'm honest—please, we know this—but
The truth too often comes out so mean