Expectations

I expect a push.
I expect a shove.
I expect the forced words, claiming our "love".

I expect tears.
I expect demands.
I expect your wandering, grabby hands.

I expect hate, covered in fake,
      expected boys who don't appreciate.

I expect a hit.
I expect a slap.
I expect rape, not a cuddling nap.


I expect hurt.
I expect regret.
I expect fighting the urge to resist.

I expect fear, and I expect this crazed

      expected depression clouding my days.

But you expect love.
You expect care.
You expect me to always be there.

You expect tender.
You expect trust.
You expect making love, not lust.

You expect to listen, you expect conversation.
      You would never expect my expected manipulation.

You expect fun.
You expect smiles.
You expect to be deep in love for a while.

You expect comfort.
You expect flowers.
You expect shared silence for hours and hours.

You expect happy, playful, and free.
      You expect these expectations from me.

But is it smart,
To expect a heart
From one who had theirs torn apart?

Yes, is it dumb
To put all your love
Into a life that is coming undone?

Or might it spare
The doomed scare
Of having expectations of going no where?

-Beaskie