"expecations" poems
I. Apply foundation in a tone more perfect than the one you're born with,
doubt that there's anything beautiful in the term "natural"
blot your lips with the cherries you deprive yourself of
and wonder, "What good is difference when it's not appreciated?"
stop reading this.
II. Forget how you were born;
every freckle,
every beauty mark,
every uneven line etched into your face are nothing to be celebrated.
Deprecate yourself, you are unwound and beg this world to shape you in its eyes.
skip this line.
Society speaks subjectively of happiness, but fill your head with lies
that we're all pretty if we can keep up our disguise.
The weight of this world upon your shoulders,
alludes to being big as too much to handle.
Curl into everyone's palm as if you're so fragile,
they have to pinch the skin on your bones with the thumb and index finger.
stop.
III. Draw on the perfectly plump pout, filled with nothing but
expectations of everyone else.
Your beauty is not a privilege for anyone,
but judgment that has defined your worth.
skip.
Emprises that market upon your insecurities,
admire that solemn face in the mirror
as the reflection discourages you
at the acknowledgement of any impurities
Start.
How To Be Beautiful Lifelong
Admire the history that lives within the heartlines of your palms,
how strong you've grown, once cradled in your mother's arms.
Disregard where it is you've come from, but how much further you've journeyed forward.
I. Apply the sincerity in your best friend's voice when
she calls the time you've spent together, beautiful.
Do not doubt the splendor that comes from wisdom.
II. Every wrinkle you've earned,
as time gives back to you from lessons learned.
Blot your lips during the release of laughter
as saliva mists through the air,
your joy so vigorous
the ghosts residing in the graves
regret no more.
You are as you should be,
a composite of everything that gives you life
and grants you purpose.
Begging for this world to love you,
there is no fault in this desire.
They speak of happiness as if
it's only a potential-oriented concept,
Do not let your heart surround the gossip
or it's golden armor become bronzed.
III. Draw on the canvas of existence
in the brightest of hues, in the purest of love.
Filled with nothing, but expecations for yourself
say farewell to the darkness
open the curtains to light.
Your beauty is magnificent
as your name will be transcendent.
In each day we decide to be ourselves,
the poise presents itself.
—V.H.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC
I tried to be a girl today
Painted my nails red and blue so I’d stop biting them
Tried to be pretty
With unbrushed hair and acne and calloused fingers
The nailpolish chipped off and I peeled it away
My hands wrecking the paint in place, colors end up beyond the lines of my hand, its everywhere, its ugly, Its suffocating, I take it off.
I want to say its a metaphor,
Something about how I cant cover up what I am with pretty colors and shiny surfaces.
It’s got to be indicative of future and past behavior about how I mess up preconceived ideas or something about how I break the molds that others try to put me in,
It happens every time.
It smudges, curve of fingers, grooves imprinting the paint with traces that I am there
Breaking the construct of beauty
I feel I cant say its anything more than smudged paint, despite how true the metaphors would be
Nothing more honest than the disfigured coverup and what lies beneath
I tried to be human today
Felt alien in my own skin
Wounded as I fought the judgement of a species I dont feel I belong to.
According to my mother I am an enemy of God for finding a temporary yet more beautiful love with her than I’ve found with a man.
I tried to be who you wanted, it never worked then, dont expect it to work now.
The mold that was casted does not, has not ever fit me.
I’d apologize for failing your expecations but theres no apologizing for finding solace amidst the storm.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
I keep seeing myself running towards his arms
And crashing into his chest
Like a wave spilling onto a beach,
A mess of salt, seafoam and sand.
To feel the warmth of his chest on my cheek
Would calm all these storms
And soothe all these waves.
Oh, to just feel his flesh.
When I reach for him, I find only empty spaces,
A wave spilling back into the ocean.
No sand, no flesh; only space.
I expected you to stay.
Expecations spell out heartache
In the strangest way.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
Way up
In these clouds
Just as my expecations
Did fall hard on my head
Full of those child like dreams.
Remembering a future
And ignoring a past
That could break
Any fragile strong-man
On any bright new day.
Why can't I
Make you leave me alone
Even here,
Up in the blue sky
Above the white clouds
So far away from home.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
My love for others is formed in desperation
I lose myself in the broken valleys of their eyes
Because I've lost you across a pit as wide as beauty
And as deep as jealousy
I fight to keep my independence
By depending on the abandoned and lonely
I'm so tired of you
But I've got no one else
Gloved hands stroke my hair
Yet they are mine
I've created a hand to hold in the winter of my desperation
And it's as cold as everything
I succumb to shameful acts of self fufillment
To protect my heart from the the anguish that awaits me in your arms
But do I know?
Can I know what truly waits in the shadow you cast?
In my desolation, not only did I lose hope
But hope lost me
In a dark world of unfulfilled expecations, their hues biting at me heels
I am lost in the invisible tragedy of the fall
I have succumbed to the despondency
And expect it to suffice
Replace what I refuse and fear to ask you for
Voiceless, I am begging you
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 11:02 PM UTC
My love for others is formed in desperation
I lose myself in the broken valleys of their eyes
Because I've lost you across a pit as wide as beauty
And as deep as jealousy
I fight to keep my independence
By depending on the abandoned and lonely
I'm so tired of you
But I've got no one else
Gloved hands stroke my hair
Yet they are mine
I've created a hand to hold in the winter of my desperation
And it's as cold as everything
I succumb to shameful acts of self fufillment
To protect my heart from the the anguish that awaits me in your arms
But do I know?
Can I know what truly waits in the shadow you cast?
In my desolation, not only did I lose hope
But hope lost me
In a dark world of unfulfilled expecations, their hues biting at me heels
I am lost in the invisible tragedy of the fall
I have succumbed to the despondency
And expect it to suffice
Replace what I refuse and fear to ask you for
Voiceless, I am begging you
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
Where do I go when I'm done I can't go home it's not an option
where do I go when I have completed my goals if I make and am successful where do I go?!?
What do I do i have only planned so far and the rest terrifies me
The emptiness and what if I don't succed
what if I fail how to show my face to my family
expecations so high of me because I'm the only one left not married or pregnant
what do I do where do I go
how will I live with the stress and pressure there already cracks in my walls
The doubt and guilt the horror if I do not succed
And what will happen if I do?
Who can I trust in my confusing family
If i succeed I will be disliked because I did
I went further then they did
Succeded where they failed and
and if I don't the joy that I failed that I am not better than them
The pity that I did not make it
What do I do?!
Where will I go
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC