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 (158)
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Let's Pretend This Never Happened
I really wish it hadn't come to this. We were having such a good time around the fire, drinking beer and reminiscing. Perhaps certain memories should stay in the past. Dan and I had 27 years worth of memories together and we always managed to survive the night. Until last night. Where exactly did the conversation go off track? When did Dan decide to shake off his inhibitions and simply become a stranger? We never argued. There was never any fights, any disagreements, or bad blood between us. Dan was my best friend. He was my hiking buddy and we would camp out overnight in the mountains every December. We've done this for over half our lives so why did last night turn into the nightmare it shouldn't have been? What was so different that had us turn on each other? I keep contemplating all these hypotheticals, all these scenarios, but I'm still coming up empty. My snow boots have really saved the day, up here all alone with no witnesses. I wasn't planning on hiking back alone, dragging this carcass behind me for 3 miles but I wasn't planning on a lot of things to happen. I miss Dan already but this has got to get done before the sun rises too high in the sky. I still have to double back and erase all traces of Dan and his presence here. I have to erase my tracks as well. I didn't know Dan's body could be so heavy.
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Fiction
Disobedience
I needed more than the bare minimum. You probably think you did your best but I provided more. What I require is exactly what I am capable of giving. I didn't ask for the impossible but the choices you made were insanely poor. There was a process I initiated and boundaries I expected you to follow. Acceptance of broken communication is still taking a lot out of me. What was once connecting us can and will be severely severed. I envisioned a future of madness and hoped it would set us free. The path of peace is one I have to take alone. My failure is one that had to occur for me to expand. A life of pessimistic tranquility cannot exist no matter how hard I pushed. I settled for a marriage where you no longer held my hand. There is a clever con you force yourself to believe. Where promises you want to hear are not the ones you make. The change I sought was the one I had to endure and claim. Blissful ignorance is a powerful tool for the corrupted insane. The finish line feels so unattainable and far away. Like this process will be rewarded when I know it won't. I allow my regression to keep pulling me back instead of forward. I can't give you this much control every time you return, so please don't. I am metamorphic and still ascending at a steady pace. You will change artificially but that is your burden to bear. I don't want to be reminded of past mistakes and wounded pride. My soul is transforming and you can't halt this evolution so don't you dare. I wish I could fast forward until I'm fully healed. But who knows when that will occur and what will transpire. I have my doubts and anxieties and perhaps I always will. But time altered its future for me so my bleakness isn't so dire. What happened to the potential I thought resided in me? If I was so stubborn, why did I give up on myself so quickly? I thought I was a masterpiece in disguise, in the making. How do I carve myself out of marble and still be more than what I want to be? The future keeps extending his warm and cuddly hand. I don't want a new companion to completely conquer me. I want a future where I can love myself and be loved in return. I'm not asking for a miracle, just for the future to be simple and happy for me. I want serenity and the peace that comes with an unclouded mind. If love will allow me, I will claim both along with his hand in mine
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Breadcrumbs
I'm living off of hope that someone will still save me. I follow the breadcrumbs as if they were specifically meant for me. If you want me, you know where to find me. I'm praying you will come to me as if it were your destiny. I'm that desperate to take anything you give. Self-sabotage breeds toxicity and it needs one more life to live. I'm not going to roll the dice and pin all my hopes on if. If you want me, you'll have to jump over this rift. This nagging feeling keeps telling me don't get your hopes up. Why do I never feel like I am good enough? You're still so vulnerable and looking for validation. You can't keep pretending you're not praying this time that he's the one. You're not perfect but I have my fingers crossed. I want you to reassure me and love me with all of my flaws. I want to mold myself into the shape of your desire. Why wouldn't I want to damage myself in the heat of this fire? Maybe I should have waited until I was fully healed. I didn't want to lose this opportunity and have my fate sealed. I'm scared of the future and I have so much riding on this experience and connection. I don't have the strength to keep trying in hopes I'll eventually forget and move on. I might never believe in myself and be the confident one. I'll always want you to choose me instead of another one. My salvation lies in your choice to love me and only me. I'm already planning on choosing you because that's the only way I'll be free. I can't fake passivity nor can I fake apathy. I can't be indifferent because my heart always takes that leap before me. Loving being in love is a curse I have given myself. Finding that forever is all I want above everything else. The false sense of perfection drives me up the wall. Wishing I was what you want is the goal above all. Acceptance of me and my insecurities will be a dream come true. I might never be able to do it so I only hope it's you. My anxiety feels like I want so little and so much. I can't risk rejection again because I still believe in love. Maybe that's what this path is: me learning to love and accept myself one day. I can only cross my fingers and hope I'll see smiling you back at me on that one fateful day
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Boundaries and comfort zones
2023 was the definitive year of change for me. 2024 will be the year of metamorphosis. A transformation of the utmost certainty will take place because it must. I have been running in slow motion. I have been standing still and wondering why I haven't moved an inch. I was always better when I was working towards something. I am at my best when I am motivated and ambitious. I love working towards a goal and establishing more goals when I advance. I love writing poetry and this platform has helped me tremendously in overcoming my insecurities. I have a fear of feedback because I am always seeking perfection when I write. I know this is meaningless because perfection doesn't exist but I am always in search of it. I want to write something that will stand the test of time, something people will speak about it decades from now. I want to write something akin to an epiphany, something that changes people's perspective that they didn't see coming. I want to write a poem that I'm so insanely proud of. I want to write the next great novel. I want to write a story that absolutely must be told. Fear and judgement has kept me from attempting my very best. I always believed my best was never good enough so I hardly even tried. I was afraid of what others would think of my work but how can they read what I've written if I never take that plunge? How can I become legendary without taking that gigantic leap off the precipice? My creative journey has always been solo but without including an audience, how will I ever progress? Writing must include other writers and feedback. Vocal media has helped me in overcoming the first obstacle which was just simply writing again. I had writer's block from 2019 to 2021. Putting pen to paper is easy. Getting the words out is also easy to accomplish. Risking myself by putting my words onto a public platform helped me grow and develop my potential. Learning to take constructive criticism and feedback is something I am still adapting to. Reading material from other writers is a goal of mine so I don't compare myself to others. Each of us has a different story to tell and we all have something so diverse and unique to contribute. Each of us has our own special voice and technique and by sharing that gift with others, we can transform ourselves into the best version of ourselves. I believe we all go through evolutionary stages to become what we already know we are. We all know how capable we are; we just don't test those boundaries and we don't jump into those frigid waters. Some of use never push ourselves out of our comfort zones but we must in order to achieve what we know we can. There is a belief that we can accomplish wonders by simply having faith and losing our fear of heights. That first step is never easy but each consequent step becomes easier because we are already flying. In order to get over my fear of nonexistent perfection, I have to try to my best and hope someone out there can connect with my words. I want my poetry, my stories of fiction, to speak to people, even if it's just one person. I want to inspire the way I have been inspired. Words are the building blocks to creativity here on Vocal media and I want to explore the unknown with these very words. Who knows what undiscovered poems lay hidden in the dark recesses of the universe? Who knows what fictional stories lay dormant in the far corners of our very own minds? We will never know until we try. In order to try, we must get over the fear of failure, the fear of falling. What if things don't work out? What if they do? What if I have the potential to be as great as I want to be? Well, the universe is beckoning me. Who will join me in this monumental crusade?
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Writers
Emerald Eyes
In the background of every formal thought, that's where you'll find me. Where the colors all bleed together and drown out every sound, that's where I'll be. From Babylon to Taiwan, look and you will see. From Medusa's head to Caesar's bloody bed, there is only you and me. I'll devour you whole while your ghost is still alive. A paragon of deviance but your perfection is still up for debate. Epitome of disruption, paradigm of disappointment. I've given birth to essential ideals but your death dictates their destiny. I can feel the tremors of trepidation. I've come too far to recede back into those waters. The trigger you represent doesn't make you a martyr. I let you provoke me into a hysterical state. This allowance pushed me into a toxic and malevolent place. You picked the time and I rose to the occasion. I activate the weapon you handed me in this corrupted situation. The ignited impulse to self-immolate. There aren't enough apologies to sever this much hate. To the stars, to the sand, we traveled far just to end up back under this dome. The inevitable truth is that we are all alone. Your emerald eyes captivated me once. Once was simply enough
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Funeral fit for yesterday
Smug, arrogant facade. I cannot contain my resentment towards you any longer. Where is your empathy? I know this contempt will never make us stronger. I am more than just what happens to me. You have truly underestimated me. You don't get to have it better with no repercussions. Your words of care turned into words of malice. What was once ours now belongs to the past. I gave you my power and everything I had. The procession begins as though it was already set in stone. There's nothing worse than deception, not even being alone. I'm afraid that you may never end up behind me. I'll still see you in my peripheral vision. Undoing all the damage done one step at a time. You did an unforgivable slight but I disagree. You've dropped your vows but so have I. Holding onto the past achieves nothing so it's a waste of time. I cannot allow you to keep interrupting me. It won't always be like this. The loyalty I wanted never existed. I controlled you because you made all the wrong decisions. Including me, we were the wrong choices for each other. I put salt on your wounds to make you hurt just as much as me. I couldn't live with my insanity and force you to pretend with me. We cradled the crown of our marriage demise. Nothing to hold onto but our liberty and lies. Twisting the knife to make the hole big. There was never a time I wasn't sick. I pulled you down into the anxiety out of love. You made your escape because you had had enough. There was no buildup nor death march. Wasting energy on you is another poisonous dart. I wish I could tell you you were right. There is nothing left for us in this life. There will be a time for retribution and healing. The peace I want comes at a price and it's me. My plans have shifted and you're not part of it. Don't get in my way because your role no longer fits. There's no time to mourn, we've sealed our fate. Enough tears have been spilled for this upcoming date. The end approaches like a brand new dawn about to unveil. It's time to put you behind me, this marriage has gone stale
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Oceania
I listen to the sound of echoes, in between the rhythm and seagulls screeching. To drown you out in the background, to tune you out and all your misdemeanors. You sail away, I cast off your ropes. I've marooned you to the middle of nowhere. I've shipped you off. Your assumptions meet your expectations. I write this in hopes one day, you will swallow your own insults. You're skilled in the art of deception and I see right through you. Your disappointments aren't mine. Why can't you face me? When all you do is see yourself. I hear the shattering of explosions, the tranquility of blind indifference. It enraptures me, in captivity, unwillingly. You're on the other side and I'm fine where I am. You fade even further away. I go into the shadows where you never stray. I'm not listening to what I've heard before. To hypocritical contradictions, to nonsense convictions. I wave good bye once again. I keep coming back to this. And it will, one day, be the last time. Long gone are the understatements of grounded wings. I am on takeoff to the lands of immortality. The mist gives way. It's been waiting for me. I dive into the vastness of the void. I jump off the precipice into the abyss of perseverance. I've come to endure. My tears will dry and my wings will expand. You've gone into the distance. You grow weaker and dimmer. I grow taller and higher. This height elevates me. You're buried in the dirt. I hear the seagulls enveloping me. The waves carry you out to sea and I'm in between all that you can't see. I listen to the wind surrounding me. To the repeat of echoes and to the scratching of vulture claws. Farewell. You are now officially dead to me
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Psychopomp
Maniacal whimsy. The ones who seek eternal flame. The ones who will sacrifice the young all for their moment of youth. To reach the finish line and go back. To reach the top and then turn around. Forever is not infinite. Permanent is not here to stay. I cannot desert you nor can I wish you well. Watching the world die while I carry on alone is not a worthwhile endeavor. I didn't sign up for this burden to be so heavy. Ungrateful creatures, you cannot stand the test of time. You haven't lived enough to see such heartache and madness. You haven't witnessed such cruel and malicious intent. To return from the dead with an immortal captain at the helm. To steer through tough seas and harsh tides. I follow the egomaniac as a loyal follower. Imprisoned in search of a dying soul. The waters of this wretched planet have no use for you anymore. A cursed wind to the tree of life. But all the trees are dead so there is only one last hope. You burned the garden and all its remaining majesty. To kill for a second more of life. To jettison pieces of your worth for fragments of eternity. To reach the standards of godliness but there are no winners. I, your shepherd, guide you to your demise. You are grateful now. I have delivered you unto your fate. You claim the prize, a life uninterrupted. I am set aside so you can roam alone as you please. I pity your welfare. I see the end, you see nothing. Which is worse? To surrender or fight until the battle is won? To reach the end or to realize there is none?
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Greek Fire
Heights are exhilarating. The fall is supreme. Accelerating higher and higher until I can no longer see. I imagine the fall to be forgiving but it is my fear that will be my undoing. Relentless, gravity is my enemy. I struggle against the forces that seek to claim reign over me. You don't define me, you cannot have me. Plummeting like an arrow, the pavement greets me. There is no going back, we will never be free. Don't look down in case you lose your nerve. In case you lose your appetite, you might get what you deserve. I watch myself soar above the Greek fire. An elaborate spectacle, full of arrows I've admired. A soothing death meant to end my suffering. I don't believe in reincarnation. We won't return once we leave. I lament my fragile broken wings. Jumping off buildings just isn't the same thing. I crave a doubtless display of constant energy. A sudden surge of adrenaline with no hesitation, no apathy. But I can't undo all of my past mistakes. All I never accomplished, all my agony creates. I covet angel rust and fairy dust. Will I rise above the mundane? Is regret a must? Heights never frightened me. It's the fall that scares the hell out of me. A leap of faith into glorious legend. If I must fail first, then I hope I will be the one to rise again after all this
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
Legion
We are Legion. We stand together, never alone. We crossed the Rubicon to conquer tyrannical Rome. We hammer the nails into the crosses of our enemies. Everyday is a battle where we fight to the death. We are warriors. We never fail, never fall. Killing machines, we see in the dark. We travel far and wide, prepared to defeat those who doubt us. To hell with the barbarians. We are Legion, powerful and strong. We unleash our fury. We are the victorious. We are the bloody executioners. We have come to endure. We have come to eliminate. Soldiers of war, the battles we fight that no one sees. We are one and nothing can strip of us of that. There's no where else left to roam. There's no one else left to defeat. Anywhere else, we've already been. There's nothing left to do but be brave.
By Anna Torres2 years ago in Poets
