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  Nov 2014 Ronnie Trubiani
Taylor
anxiety comes as a haywire mind
a situation in your head
worlds away from everyone
words unsaid
scared to be anyone, much less yourself

but most of all
it comes
and it never really leaves.
Sometimes, we seem to lose sight of who we think that we are;
Something can happen, and it feels as if we are broken into pieces.

You forget who you are,
You forget why certain things in life had or have meaning to you,
You forget how to smile with the same enthusiasm as you once had,
You forget why you found happiness around certain people or in certain events,
You forget your reason for living.

Yet, you pick yourself back up, give yourself a pat on the back and carry on.

You remember how to smile,
You remember how to laugh,
You remember how to be yourself,
You remember how to live again, and go on with your life as if nothing had ever happened.

In each relapse and recovery, however, a small piece of yourself is lost in the process. You cannot feel it, but you can see it when you take a step back and reflect upon the past.

An old habit is replaced with a new fixation,
A new characteristic has taken over in your personality,
An old friend is no longer on speaking terms with you,
A plethora of old notes and keepsakes were destroyed in an erstwhile fit of rage,
A sweet memory turned sour by a recent event.

Each time we fall into this cycle, we lose a small piece of ourselves.
We change, sometimes for the better, but sometimes for the worse.
Some never leave the cycle, while others simply relive it one too many times.

Valuable people, places, memories, recollections, and thoughts lost to the past, pieces of you that you tried to keep but ended up losing in the process. You don't want to change, you don't want to leave these pieces behind.

But each time you break you forget to pick up the pieces that fall off of you, or you lose them. You can never fully heal and return to the way you were before you shattered into shards. Without certain fragments, you can never be put back together the same way.

Yet, people grow, people change. These missing pieces grow back and manifest in new and strange ways, and it isn't all anxiety and melancholy.

Eventually, we can learn to live, love, learn, act, and behave freely once more; we can use the new pieces of ourselves to change into something great, new, exiting. We can flourish in another form, because sometimes, we are meant to be something other than what we had originally started out to be.

Sometimes, we seem to lose sight of who we think that we are;
But then something can happen, and it feels as if we are made whole again.
  Nov 2014 Ronnie Trubiani
Just Melz
I wish
    I knew
       how
To mend your
            heart
   So you could
Start
       Mending mine....

I wish
     I knew
         how
  To show you
      you're worth
    Loving
       So you could
Start
       Loving me...
Body shaking
Heart racing
Mind scattered
Feeling dizzy
Need help
Can't talk
Go away
Can't walk
Pass out
Why not cry a little too

Hello my name is anxiety
Ronnie Trubiani Nov 2014
As she sobs in the night,
Her parents start another fight.
As she hears the screams,
She sits alone and weeps.

The fighting has now stopped,
And her crying starts to cease,
When her innocent tears dry,
Her mom walks in and speaks.

I'm sorry that made you cry,
He means not what he says,
You know we both love you,
She swears wiping the little girls eye.

As her mom leaves the room,
Daughter is all settled down,
Until she hears a door slam,
Then her dad walks in and says.

Stop crying right now you "stupid little brat,"
You know we don't care if your feeling that sad,
Struggling to get up, you hear a big smack,
She is back on the floor, her face blue and black.

He kicks her, then swears, then yells really loud
"No one loves you here, so get out of this house."
The very next day she tries to run away,
But her dad soon finds out and it begins all again.

That day was the same, yet different in many ways,
All I will say is that poor little girl, just faded away.

Now she is in heaven,
Her mom really sad,
Her dad doesn't care,
He ended her life so bad.

Her mom was so sad that she went for a drive,
Her behind the wheel, and the dad by her side.
All of a sudden the car lost control,
Then went over a cliff,
On purpose I know.

Now she too is in heaven, her little girl by her side,
The dad never made it
With them into the clouds.
Although all three have died
Just wanted to say this did not happen to me or anyone that I know. I write poems about subjects that I feel strongly about and I believe that no man should ever harm a women or child.
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