Expectations are funny things… We all make them; every single one of us has expectations about everything in our lives. From the people we interact with, the places we go, and the food we eat. We all expect the things in our lives to be perfect. We set the highest expectations we can on things we cannot control, only to be let down time after time. Did you ever think that it’s your own fault others are letting you down? That maybe you should review the expectations you have and make them more attainable. It will end up leaving you a little more satisfied instead of frustrated.
When did we develop expectations? Did we have them as children… Or are they something that come as you age? When you become more informed about the world and your surroundings, you become more judgemental and specific on what and who you want to be surrounded with. As a child, we were told what to do and did not have any sort of responsibility, except to listen to our parents… I think our expectations were always met, so we were never let down. Now that we have a better understanding of what we want and need, it leads us into vulnerability and often getting hurt.
“don’t judge a book by it’s cover,”
we’ve all heard it
time and time again.
but how many times have you hovered,
thinking about what can be changed?
the thought of you gone
trickles down my throat like glass.
I collapse into myself;
you made me whole,
but now I am hollow.
without you, I feel nothing.
my heart beats like a fist to my thighs.
it’s better you’ll be gone.
you drain me of myself
and insert shame.
stepping stones leading you
built out of sand
slipping through your grasp
you ask yourself if you’ll make it
if there is such a thing called home
like glass, I am easily shattered.
strong enough to hold the world.
the tremors cause me to shudder,
but I do not break.
my heart flutters
full of anxiety.
what will cause me to shatter?
aching heart filled with loneliness,
following the path of abandonment
leaving my body to drop.
one by one they all fall out of my life
instantly following the one before.
I am the last to fall,
fall out of myself into nothing.
my home is a brick wall cemented together with shame
I am the only one to blame.
i’ve forgotten how to breathe
you’ve blinded me with smoke.
the burning house of your hands
traps me in the rubble.
i thought you were safety;
that you would save me,
but you burned me alive.
an image of ash,
a frozen soul enclosed in a charred body.
my last memory:
the stains your hands left upon my body.