Anna Torres
Bio
I’m a 39-year old mother and student. I love reading, metal music, and writing. I have begun writing again since 2021
Stories (162)
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Rex the lonesome king
I watched my kingdom deteriorate slowly until it became a nothingless void. Ancient Laramidia couldn't survive extinction status but I was already a dying carnivore long before the end. They all knew me as a predator but it wasn't all true. I walked the lonesome path because I didn't know how to allow anyone else to walk beside me. I looked in the reflection in the lake ripples but couldn't see past my own impossible flaws. I couldn't hug myself even if I wanted to. I played the role of an apex scavenger when I always wanted to be more. The reputation of this Cretaceous period lies solely within my fossilized monarchy. How could I be unafraid when I was simply pretending to be? How do we love ourselves despite our demons manifesting deep within ourselves? With a crown so heavy on my head and cruel irony forever tormenting me. Everyone else seems to be content with their bodies and self-image but not me. Why is self-esteem so easily attainable for everyone but me? I didn't choose to be like this. I didn't choose to look like this nor feel like this. I'm supposed to be a king on a massive throne but this throne is powerless to give me what I truly want. Acceptance of one's self despite contradictions and abnormalities. There are the dinosaurs that fly in the sky and they are happy and at peace. There the ones that roam in herds and can actually touch their loved ones. I am burdened to walk this path alone with no regard for my own admiration. What can I do when all I want is to be something more? My aspirations are dwindling. I cannot bear the weight of this heavy crown forever. I watched the twinkling stars evolve into morning light and hazy dewdrops. I spied out of the corner of my eye a comet in the sky. Maybe this will be the change I so instantly crave. Something to make me quit comparing myself to everyone else. When my world shifted completely, I was still left with this burden. I hope my ancestors do not carry this meaningless weight as I once did. It achieves nothing to be so preoccupied with hating your own worth. I questioned my own meaning and my own existence. My crown is heavy with self-doubt. I can only hope I learn to accept these imperfections and remember, I am worthy and I am enough just as I am
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Katana
You didn't care what happens to me. I stopped caring what happens to you. Transparency was never your strongest attribute nor was your hospitality. Because of you, I spoke melancholy fluently. I was the ocean trying so desperately to wave at you but you were the moon and you wouldn't look downward. I was in the spillways while you were in the clouds. Subterranean tunnels and hot air balloons. Gutterballs and solar flares. You were the gravity in the entire universe while I was dwelling in the mantle of the planet you developed amnesia about. I wasn't authorized to speak up and use my voice. You were the override that rescinded each and every choice. The vagueness didn't add to any absent conversation. Your deliberate attempts at lying were made straight to my face. I didn't believe in gullibility until the veil was lifted. I didn't know my loyalty and dedication were not reciprocated until the very end. Your words couldn't realign with any thoughtless action. Your absent mindfulness sliced through my peripheral vision like a katana. I was always prepared for self-sabotage but this all came from you. Every scenario played out in my mind except for this one. Any sword would have done less damage than what your intentions unloaded. My plans have more velocity and more fury than any blade from any bygone era. This is not my punishment nor my fault. This was the result of incompetence and incompatibility but I kept trying despite the obvious. What a Sisyphean endeavor but I chose to keep failing. You never had access to my heart because it was never yours to begin with. I knew inevitably this would run its course but I hoped it would end at my own choosing. You didn't take the truth with you when you left. The universe didn't throw a wrench into my blueprints. It threw a dagger into my coveted and prolonged suffering. What a weapon to use against my chainmail and unexpected resurrection. I have created my own katana, dripping with ferocious rage and the ability to conquer. Forged with ambition and a sense of renewed purpose. I am my own master and I will slay those who say otherwise. I don't have anymore to give you, not even a goodbye
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
The Scourge of God
You punctured too many holes into my heart. I had to carry it in my arms like a sieve. I had to go numb worse than novocaine to preserve myself. I was forced to realize that we had simply run out of time. A prison made to keep us together out of nostalgia. I had my illusions but you completely shattered them. You had to prove you could do better than me. But loyalty cannot be bought, it can only be given. What drove us together was a spark that quickly dwindled. We called it love but settling resembles hope too much. You were too far away even when you were right beside me. I didn't want you closer, I wanted you to be something you could never be. You weren't searching for the truth like I was, you just wanted to cover up your mishaps. You couldn't fill the holes you created so you found a clean slate instead. The chasm in between just caused more space to ignore. You're no longer any of my concern. You told your lies in order to survive. I had to levitate myself in order to burn. Two worlds divided in order for us to finally die. I don't know when but this lesson has got to be learned. You were the salt in the wound I didn't think I deserved. You tried to take credit for all the accomplishments I knew I would earn. This pain isn't mine anymore, now it's your turn
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Pit of Doom
Memories of us are just hazy and incoherent. A myriad of conflicting personalities and pretentiousness. This is the end of all verses that have run of fuel. We have reached the pinnacle of martyrdom. I wanted you to try as much as I did but that proved to be out of your reach. I always strained more and further out than your body ever could. Our engine ran on hope and four flat tires. Our locomotive couldn't find the best route so we drove blind anyways. It's like you threw us down into this pit and wondered why I kept trying to escape. I wanted you to want to escape with me. To change every flaw in your corrupted design and be what you were supposed to be. Heaven forbid we change ourselves to accommodate who we claimed to love. Isn't that what love is supposed to be? How could I have accepted you as you were when I couldn't even accept myself? There's no hand reaching me to help me out of here. In order to get out, you descended and dug even deeper. You found the coward's way out and I salute you for it. Leaving me in this doom forced me to introspect. What could I do differently that I ever tried before? Why can't I just accept your resignation and be at peace with your departure? No, I must prove to myself that your retirement from this hell would not be the end of me. Just because you absconded into the twilight does not mean I was going to wait for you until dawn. I have renounced my oath and am loyal only to myself now. My memory will eventually forsake you but for now, this abdication is what drives me forward. No magical staircase was built but a rope was painstakingly made to climb out of here. This pit of doom no longer has any room for me. It has weakened its jaws and released its grip on me. You can make a prisoner out of someone else. I am no longer willing to be that sacrifice anymore. The void that is you got left behind. I can't hear your echoes anymore, I will pay them no mind
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Dethroned
I've returned from dehydration in the arid desert. I've resurfaced from forced hiatus in isolated Siberia. You held too much influence and power in just one useless finger. But I had the common sense to finally push you away so you wouldn't linger. A pariah speaking at a different frequency than me. We were speaking in tongues and alternating tones that neither of us could decipher. This vendetta will outlast us both. I've placed myself back on the altar and knocked you off your pedestal. Invincible and supreme, there's nothing more you can throw at me. You made me yield when I should have skyrocketed. The defeat you had orchestrated will backfire on you. The elaborate cage you trained me in couldn't withstand my wrath. I've destroyed the illusions you had set in stone. The firing squad is here to finish what I started. Execution by guillotine is a waste of energy. Trial by fire is the best way to go. I've yielded too many times and now the answer is simply no. I wasn't afraid to die with you by my side. I was afraid to live and not dare step out from under your shadow. The fearmonger in me sought more than anything you were ever gracious enough to hand to me. This isn't love nor was it madness. It was an excuse to stay stagnant that made my insanity completely pointless. I assumed we shared our sickness together but it was I who suffered alone. You made your exit so sudden that I was left with this burden to exist alone. You thought you had made this choice for me. I thought I would avenge myself but it is my silence that will speak volumes for me. My choice to remain supreme will perform the spectacle you will never witness. My ability to be invincible is the moment you will never see. Some people will tear themselves apart to find their worth. I always knew I was. I just couldn't locate it until I eradicated you first. You forced me to capitulate and emulate surrender. But I never acquiesced and I never will. The only armistice I agree to is emancipation. Keep your shield up and your armor intact. You may need it when I strike you down and step over your corpse to find my ultimate peace. Misery cannot find me. There is nothing more you can do to deplete me
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Point Nemo
Extinct have gone the novices of time. It's not the damned that have been erased but the rustic and the lame. Trapped beneath camouflage and outdated routines. They carved their misfortunes in bone but I have carved nothing, Still waiting for my turn at evolution. The misguided burned their hands with the fire they created. Discovering stolen weapons and reshaped maps. Surviving by doing the most mediocre and mundane. The divided society within me must be restored. You wouldn't allow me to eat at the table because you occupied all the seats. A civil war has erupted inside of me and the terrorist you became has ridiculed me long enough. I was the caveman drawing scriptures on the brand new walls while you claimed to be the new messiah. You drove me to the edge of the world and left me there on the side of the unpaved road, alone. I prepared cobblestones into fortified statues and citadels. I created epochs and enduring eras. I harvested the best that resided within me but you always doubted me. You projected false appearances in order to rise above. Everything I did was never enough. You conquered distant lands and exotic societies but you couldn't tame your own ignorance. I'm not the historic ape kept in a gilded cage for your own amusement. I am the next stage of natural selection while you are in rapid decline. Your words are unknown now because language has progressed faster than your own tongue. This massive shift is the iceberg launching itself into the salty ocean. You shrink and withdraw while I migrate and advance. Go and retreat while you still can. I will not be lessened by the likes of you. Diminish your own idleness and I will succeed where you already failed. My work is not yet done. I am a continuous web of developing perfection. You couldn't make me go extinct. This word doesn't apply to me anymore. My limbs have evolved into wings and you will watch as they soar
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Reactor 4
I only ask that you get what you deserve. After all these years of putting yourself first. I can't deny the shock nor the relief that somehow still hurts. It was either you or me that needed to leave and I don't know which way was worse. I'm glad I didn't lose my nerve. I'm glad you can't swallow me up anymore. The fallout was endurable because I had already planned on radiation poisoning. I witnessed the meltdown of our egos flush away any chance at redemption. I knew you weren't infallible but you still had to prove you were. How do I redefine myself when you were the one defining factor? What more can I disregard? Every single red flag and inconsistent flaw? Who was I before the procedure of lobotomy? You left me in standby mode and now I'm in recovery mode. Who am I after this hypothetical treason? If I remember the despair, then I remember everything. If I ever said forever, then I'm sure I meant it at the time. I watched these events unfold as if I wasn't an active participant. Life just happened as if I had no will or choice. I could have altered my course and sailed for new waters. Instead, I sat the helm and marooned this shipwreck into hostile Mercury. I tried to even the score and keep three steps ahead of you. Why did we treat this love like a competition? This board game of a marriage was a crooked one from the start. Rewards and punishments were the way I demonstrated my resolve. How could we have spoken the truth that everything was falling apart? How did I ever believe that you were redeemable once? I don't know if certainty will ever find me but I will search for it with the utmost sincerity. I've already pivoted from scheduled unhappiness. Deviating from unwelcome reality and inevitable consequences. I always wanted more but you always settled for less. The strongest commitment was the one I could only make for myself. It's just a flimsy word when actions don't align and you never follow through. I kept projecting the worst I could imagine and you still somehow managed to undermine even that. This broken alliance hasn't summoned a surrender out of me yet. I am still loyal and devoted, just to myself. You had me wallowing in pity notions and unfounded doubt. Because of you, selfishness is something I could do without. You were the collateral damage in the war against myself. You continuously chose yourself over everyone else. Somehow, you still bring out the worst in me. Somehow, I still let you have this profound effect on me. What is this hellfire I keep waltzing through? Why do I allow this hysteria to continue? Will this lunacy ever end? When will your ghost stop haunting me and let me move on? I have new elevations to conquer. I have more sights to behold. I must cut out this cancer like a tumor in order to heal. This meltdown is imminent and must be shut down. I can't escape the contamination but I can escape you. We have been hazardous to ourselves and it's time for inoculation. My gas mask is useless but it's still my best defense. I will go left while you go right. I can't focus on you anymore if I want to flee from radiation sickness. I can still make it out alive. I know I can
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
God slayer
You give me pain and force me to take it. There aren't enough algorithms to make me fake it. I'm not a variable in your equation. There is no fundamental sequence, only persuasion. A glitch in the code that remakes me. A hiccup on the screen that reinvents me. I have gone above precognition. I have ventured below formulated precision. A median in your symmetry. An exponent in your failed fallacy. It's lonely in the 4th quadrant. What's meant to be broken is now just bent. You can't apprehend me. I'm the nail in the coffin that you can't see. You don't deserve all this acclaim. A heretic on the throne of the insane. It's not a mission of mind control. It's a competition for ownership over the soul. Destroyer of Adam cells. We are at the eve of homecoming hell. You played the roll of a saint. But your crucifix is crooked and the blood is faint. Don't spear me with absolution. Don't baptize me in the waters of confusion. Fallen idol, get down on your knees and pray with me. These whispers mean absolutely nothing. If there is an almighty already made, may He be kept safe from my blade
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Thunderbolt
I am the architect and I hold my destiny within my hands. I am the grand design and am sculpted with no regard for plans. My rigid assumptions have halted me in my path. My nuclear contempt for you has the same outcome as my high demands. I've absorbed enough of your hostile energy. Every time I'm reminded of you, you return to catapult everything. What's it's like to be untethered to you? Any way it could have happened and I knew I'd take it to the extreme. Scorched earth did not separate the dying embers from my heart. We were both cleansed through the inferno and now I lay waste to all that you left behind. I am not the one you abandoned; I am the one who walked in the opposite direction. I could not reside where my presence was no longer necessary. If you had it your way, I would never have found my courage. Don't mistake my silence for surrender. Don't underestimate my willingness to take the long road. I will get there even faster now that you're not here weighing me down. Cut the cord that keeps us afloat. Sever the tie that prevents us from resuscitating. Reanimating isn't just for the walking dead anymore. I can stitch myself back together with all of my former body parts. They will realign and fuse back into one. A weakened pulse can find its strength again. A hollow core can finally be on the mend. Just because I didn't foresee this betrayal doesn't mean I didn't account for it. You don't get to resurface from this drowning and expect me to wait for you beneath the waves. I can hold my breath far longer than you can. This pressure will not keep me contained. The carbon dioxide will not keep me confined. The grave you dug for our future is the only thing that will be buried. I will use the dirt from our coffin to orchestrate a new beginning. Rebuilding from scratch is not as awful as you claimed it would be. You have truly failed to make a martyr out of me
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
