Expectations

Sometimes I think
expectations are little murderers.
skulking down dark alley ways
waiting to take our lives

They mentally
tear us. Like a knife,
slowly moving across
soft flesh, blood
pouring in warning, 
life draining.

Expectations open
that wound up-
bare-handed and
search around, grasping
intestines and arteries,
pulling and tainting until
we writhe in pain.

Sometimes they 
make it to the brain-
little pathogens 
eating a hole 
creating a home in your cerebral,
hijacking your thoughts,
living through your actions. 

Exterminating these little
warriors is imprudent. 
We need 
them 
As much as they 
tear us apart- we need that
war.
To survive. 
To grow.