Johana Torres
Bio
Today, I'm writing a book that recounts the life once felt was too painful to tell.
We tell people to be strong, but we don't let them feel.
You can't heal if you're not allowed to hurt.
By Johana
Stories (5)
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Society Often Teaches Us to Suppress Our Sad Feelings, Branding Them as Negative.. Top Story - January 2026. Content Warning.
Allow yourself the time to feel, process, and let go. What a journey we’ve traveled together. You can relate to that pain that appears out of nowhere and wants to linger in our minds. Once fear moves in, it takes root—spreading doubt, loneliness, and confusion It’s that kind of pain that overtakes your mental health, gradually making a home within you. Your thoughts can create a space filled with fear, a feeling that we often cling to because it’s the one our minds use against us—leading to a fierce battle between your thoughts and your feelings. It’s a struggle no one wants to lose, yet losing yourself feels like an ever-present threat. Isn’t that a trick life plays on us?
By Johana Torres8 days ago in Psyche
Scripture of Bravery and Resilience
The passage is cheerful, and the street across is named unfearful. Couldn't decide on my own crossroads. The unfearful road winds me in. To leave behind the occupant who demands without asking was a breeze to lose consciousness.
By Johana Torres5 months ago in Fiction
The escape that changed my voice
I have arrived. I thought I did, or is it possible to suffer in an imaginary world? The tender hands become unkind in a nocturnal image. Barefoot witnesses the cold mortal voice of the escape. Footprints behind remind of the pain rooted by the unkind hands. Tears of the unknown shadows scar into my swollen face.
By Johana Torres5 months ago in Poets
I heard you on the 13th summer
The summer solstice came with intensity. My body tilted towards the sun. I felt the warmth of doubt hugging me. The 13th summer of tragedy couldn't remember me? Many waves I've seen, many times I begged in the silent wind. The sound of the ocean whispers at times, or I thought it did. Familiar voices heard my tragedy, voices with empty boats. The summer tragedy stopped my heartbeat. My body was anatomy. The sea whispered, "I heard you on the 13th summer." I travel to find the flesh to cherish your broken shells. Summer is fresh and unknown to the flesh. It is salty and warms my body with the heat of his pain. The intensity of our pain was perfectly paired with the earth at the summer solstice. The return of the heartbeat with a pitter and pounding effect of raindrops soaking us and drowning us in boundless love of eternity.
By Johana Torres5 months ago in Poets
