Their Expectations

They didn't believe in me,

I didn't believe in myself.

Everything I did was in vain,

but they continued to let me.

It wasn't until a few months later

that they believed, 

pushing me to keep going.

From no pressure came immense pressure,

expectations of perfection

and punishment for failing to do so.

The punishment was never physical, 

but mental. 

They'd castigate my achievements

when I tried to make fire under their water.

With their continuous high goals set for me,

but no rock on which to build a home,

I simply began to fly.

I never flew high, always under the radar.

But the day came.

The day I was beaten and bruised

with the power of shattered harmony

tearing open my heart,

and leaving me to suffer.

I did not see the wound,

as it did not bleed at first.

But others saw it, 

and picked at the injury,

beseeching my downfall,

and oh did I fall.

I fell so far down the mountain side

that I never imagined 

that I'd be able to once again reach the top.

The fear of falling, 

the fear of them throwing rocks to make me fall,

the fear that my hands would give up,

and I would fall. 

But I didn't fall.

I pulled myself up

with what little strength I had left,

and when I finally got to the top,

I held my head high,

knowing that I had done the impossible.

They wanted to claim responsibility for my success.

It felt like they had slapped me in the face

with a stone in a bag,

pounding me to the ground

to steal what little good they could see in me.

But I guarded what they wanted 

and never gave it to them.

They never wanted to see 

just how much I needed their help.

Maybe if they did, 

things would have been different.