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Jenny 6d
EXPECTATIONS, what are expectations?
It was a 12-letter word that I’ve set as a standard
Where anything way below, acceptance is just too hard
It was the moment I kept myself away from freedom,
Freedom of doing what I want to do
Freedom of not having fun to what I love.

Am I still the person who is willing to win this battle?

Now that I think of it,
Your opinion affects my system as it greatly matters.
I lose self-reliance because our belief prominently differs
Your words direct my capacity into incapability

I lost myself,
I lost my long-term built confidence, just so yours be followed.
I believed I never made the right choice,
The moment your opinion kept the majority’s mind closed.
I was never person I ought to be.
I was blinded by the pressure you form inside me
Letting me consider I wasn’t doing enough,
Luring me into what our society want,
Persuading me that in all things that I do, I can’t.
No, I am not a loser but. . .
I’m tired.
Set by high expectations
Labelled by your opinions
Filled by Pressure
Can I survive this battle?
These three just consumed my positivity.
All I have wasn’t enough,
my fighting spirit reached its limit,
I think I’ll be losing the battle.
I think I need to quit.
I quit.

I quit reaching your expectations
I quit on becoming a puppet of your opinion
I quit being a slave of pressure.
I’ll quit just so I could win this battle.

I’ll stand on my own standards and expectations
I’ll do what I think is best for me even though failure would arrive and teach me a lesson
Societal standards are up but I’ll set my own
I’ll be the queen of my freedom, where positivity overflows and life continuously goes on

Your opinion may somewhat matter
But you can’t have the compass to my journey of becoming stronger
I’ll be learning to eliminate
Just for my self-choices could dominate
I’ll turn pressure into power,
Power to survive, power to become better
I will win this battle.
No more expectations,
No insignificant opinion
No more peer-pressure to stop this motion.
No more stops just rest.
Victory is in me, all I have was the best.
I am a quitter on quitting.
Don't quit, just take a rest and continue life.
misha 6d
these days
if a man is
caring and
brings his girl
always above
is a luxury

but what
people in
this century
forgot is that
it should be
a standard
all girls are goddesses, embrace yourself and respect yourself and then let someone else do it
Elizabeth C Sep 27
You are confidence on a brush
Beauty in a bottle
I paint over my flaws
Powder my imperfections
Contour my cares away
I wake up early just to put you on
You smooth skin no scars
Defined eyebrows for days
Cheekbones for weeks
You make society tolerate my face

See you can never win
If I don’t put enough of you on I’m ugly
“You look tired.”
“Are you ok? You don’t look so good.”
Put on too much of you and I become a slut
“Don’t cake it on. Gross.”
“She just puts all that makeup on for attention.”
“I like the no makeup look more.”
They don’t realize that that look includes you, too.
People don’t appreciate you.
But that’s ok. I do.

So thank you
For my elongated eyelashes
My eyeliner so sharp it could slice expectations in half
I realize you don’t actually cover up flaws because there aren’t any to cover up
But I appreciate you nonetheless
Shanne Sep 25
With your eyes constantly pouring concealed thunderstorms

Do you even remember what it’s like not to squint through the blur?

My soul is bled out upon the foundation you call perfection

On the asphalt and cement you disguised as hard work

My body has nothing left to offer your expectations

After turning from good enough to being better than the rest

How did we end up chasing the impossible?

Being so scared of failure we kill ourselves for anything less than flawless.

When did it all lose meaning?

The fast paced world stealing away our time like we owed it something.

I lost my passion to the critique of others.

Forgot my name when I took someone else’s.

I took a gun and shot my self.

And a ghost rose to greet the world.
Lilly frost Jan 5
Hello there
Sitting in the corner grumbling about your health
Would you listen?
I need some help
It’s hard holding up the world all by myself
When you bother to look up do you realize my shoulders aren’t a shelf
You can’t pile things on top of me and expect me not to crumble
My legs are weak
I’m starting to stumble
May I have some support
Not your usual retort
I understand I must be stronger
I don't think I can hold on much longer
May I lay on you
Simply a word or two
Just a brief relief
A second of peace
If not I understand
But please would you take my hand
So I know where to go
On such a slippery slope
Where is the dry land
I'm being buried please understand
The weight in this muck
I'm losing my luck
Back bent eyes closed
Its up to my throat I have nowhere to go
Rowan Sep 19
Don’t expect me to say “I’m okay,”
because I started to go to therapy.

Don’t expect me to smile
because I stopped hurting myself.

Don’t expect me to heal
when I can’t go a day without the thought.

Don’t expect anything from me,
you’ll be greatly disappointed.

And don’t expect me to say thank you
when you stay,
I’m too selfish to say anything.

Or maybe I can’t talk, move my lips to form words,
haven’t you noticed?

And now that I’m here,
I can’t even cry without fear cradled next to the tears.
No, no crying for me. Not again.

Don’t expect me to leave my dorm,
When out there, I can’t hear their voices,
because somehow those who don’t know anything about me
make me the most comfortable.

Don’t expect me to say the truth “I’m empty and lost and emotionless and apathetic and so full of nothing, I don’t know how to break,”
because I go out from my dorm
or go to class or any of the clubs.

And expect me to say “I’m fine.”
Sunny Gulati Sep 14
With groggy eyes

I glanced outside my window.

It was early morning

and the street was deserted below.

Sleep had somehow evaded me

the night before.

The desire to mould my future

forces my mind to work overtime.

I have forgotten how to relax

and switch off at night.

Unknown fears drown my mind

all the time.

Below, I saw a vagabond,

unaware of where he was lying.

He slept more peacefully than me.

His needs were probably less than mine.

He was like a rolling stone

who gathered no stress.

Whereas my expectations offered resistance.

Preventing me from going with the flow, in acceptance.

Though our needs are few,

our expectations can become too many.

As I looked away, I wondered whether

I should pity him or me.
The more your expectations the more are your troubles
Josh G Sep 7
Compassion, a gift
Though it's also a curse
How can I be idle
When I know you're hurt?
I shoulder your pain
And loan you my heart
Because when you're down
I have to do my part
But when its me on that stage
Feeling nothing but grief
I have this idle hope
As I grit my teeth
That you will be there
Offering your hand
But that hope's a lie
Because most can't withstand
This double edged sword
That few of us wield
I've been told that I'm a very compassionate person and that I have a huge heart. Compassion is something that's rare in this world. Very few people are truly compassionate in my eyes. It's a gift that can be a burden.
Alaina Moore Sep 5
"What's funny is" is a shitty statement to be on the receiving end of, it nearly ever ends well.
What's funny is... Often times, most of the time, it's not funny at all. Curious, that we take humorous language and make it into lighter fluid to burn bridges.
What's funny is... The fire is usually a case of arson brought about by projection of in-the-moment feelings, that are fleeting. Bullshit, that we allow ourselves to make them permanent; just mindless masochistic beasts wallowing in the ashes.
What's funny is... The echo chambers we've created for ourselves are actually prisons. Ironic, that we make up walls made out of bricks of unreachable goals, and get disappointment when we don't achieve them.
What's funny is... Is that the more I interact with people the more I understand why we let ourselves indulge, and indulge, and indulge, to numb the monotony for just one fucking second. Nerve wracking, that every person is just a liability I cannot trust to not become the shackles attaching the weights that drown me.
What's funny is... As hard as I try to remain invisible, I'm forever tracked by a spotlight that blinds me. Insane, to think for one second we are anything but dirt on the ground; let me be dirt.
What's funny is... The numbness, and the pain, are like logs on the fire. Enduring, daily, the pokes and prods to keep the embers going when all they wanna do is die.
What's funny is... I like to dance in the flames but hate being on fire. Truthfully, I aim for embers.
Somewhat outside of my normal style.
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