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 (165)
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Scythe
Heaven doesn't want me. Hell has no place for me. No haven awaits me. It is you that I cannot do without. I can live but it wouldn't be so grand. You're both the bane of my existence and the lifeline I cling to. You're the failure I made and the achievement I sank. You're the breath I hate and the heartbeat I love. You're the cause of all my suffering and the center of all of my endeavors. You bring me to the edge of my sanity and keep me safe from my unconsciousness. There's not a corner of the earth where you can't find me. There's not a place in the zenith where I won't look for you. We are trapped in the firmament together. We are wedded in the chaos forever. I won't let you go even when you've worn out your welcome. I'm not leaving even when I've had my fill. We will reign for as long as there is a kingdom. We will flourish as long as there is time left. You don't see the imperfect design that is me. You don't care about idiosyncrasies. Unflattering flaws, peculiar downfalls. You see me in all my ignorant bliss. We will burn together in this beautiful necropolis. I don't want a life without you and your patience. It's a burden where I won't accept anything less.
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Poets
Dear Son
Dear Luke, I’m sure this news will come as a shock to you. I have tried so many times to figure out how to word this carefully so here it is: I’m not your father. I raised you for the last 15 years just for the paternity test to tell me you are not my son. I love you just as much as the day I first held you. I have loved you since were knee high and now that you’re taller than me, my love has only deepened. If you will have me, I will continue to be your dad because I don’t see you as anything else but my child. If you do not accept this, I understand. I didn’t know how to text you or call you or even email you this information. I sat down at my desk and the words flowed out onto this paper this afternoon. The universe made me your father and a silly DNA test doesn’t change that for me. Please know I don’t hold any grudges against your mother. She has nothing to do with my responsibility to you. If you want to keep going, please let me know. I love you, son. You can always count on me to be here for you, always.
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Poets
Across the multiverse
If I have you, I have not failed. A fire that pulses with a brewing passion, engulfing me. A flicker that lingers. It is a constant I have relied on, keeping me from instability. Two opposing forces that reach out to one another, still. We built a legacy on makeshift foundation and have restored ourselves over and over again. If resurrection were a gift, we would be powerful beyond any recall. Upon repair and revival, I don’t wonder where you’ve gone. You’ve remained a limb forever attached to me. This love rejuvenates me with your soul burying me alive. Reinvigorate me, reaffirm me. We stand tall, braving the harsh elements we created. We erect firm, blaming each other for past mistakes. Come help me extinguish the fire. Come throw me down into the pyre. In this whirlwind we gave birth to. In this fairytale we know doesn’t exist. Would I still choose you over endless possibilities? Would you still love me even at the end of infinity? I was there at the end of one cycle. You teleported me into another. We will be revered. Our love will reverberate across the cosmos, across the centuries. A millennia holds no sway over us. We will outlive our mortal wounds. We will transcend every form of abuse we threw at each other. Love and hate have tortured us so. Love took its toll on us. If I have you, I have not failed across any multiverse I was lucky enough to find you. It’s not a contest we win. It’s a journey we take hand-in-hand. This bittersweet escape where others have attempted but end up incomplete. I’m not missing any piece of my future but you help stitch the puzzle back together. Do I want to go back? Could I even try? You have altered this dimension and it will not rewind. We created new outcomes with the flick of our wands. With every new invention, we propel forward into new alternatives. I don’t know what awaits us in the end but if you’re there, I will be brave. Would you still choose me? Would you still love me? If we could, we would reach for immortality. What would we achieve if not infamy?
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Poets
Vilify
You, too, will also die. When it’s time to go, you can’t take it with you. All of your pointless endeavors, all of your empty words. All your superficial calluses, even your futures are absurd. Your wrinkles are obvious, a regret some don’t get to carry. Your body ravaged by time, a gift rewarded to so few. What really matters regarding life and death? You will not be spared. You will endure the brute force of chaos risings. You will compromise all of your efforts and failures. Whatever you manipulate will only be transformed. You are a beacon of wasteful hardships. A faith extorted and extended beyond logical means. Your redemption won’t come from applause. Not from foreign adoration or false fame. You are the last dying hope of metamorphosis. Your illusions are not influencing me. Your mass appeal only deludes me. A temple harnessing artificial energy. A tomb where none of your avarice follows. You built your monuments to showcase meaning. I don’t want any of what you’re selling. A traveling salesman to offer tricks and potions. You’re the ringleader of a silly circus full of divided devotion. You will not split me in half. You will not make an admirer out of me. You will not make a follower out of me. I don’t worship glass houses. I don’t envy such breakable elements. I will build a greater me out of sustainable material. I will evolve as I should with the time that is given to me. I won’t pay your debts. I won’t extract your tolls. I don’t owe you a damn thing
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Poets
Mea Culpa
Decrepit demon, you keep me up at night. You keep me suffocated in between the blankets. You make me lose sleep in your tight embrace. I don’t look forward to when the sun sets. Can we burn your bones? Can we curse your soul back to hell? Supernatural entity, not everything can be fixed with a spell. Paralysis in a paranoid state sped up to avoid the endless night. Tortured beyond all common sense. My defensive wounds have taken flight. A withdrawal in the morning, a sharpened exorcism every evening. A funeral shroud for the taking. Red Death smiles as I break gravity. The laws of physics hold no sway. Dreaming away to erase these memories. A cure that doesn’t exist. You have ruined my well being. Mourning the loss of feeling. I bid you adieu with my venomous tongue. Can we trade possessions? Can we evict ourselves from existence? I’m sorry but I’m not sorry. One of must go. It’s my fault we’re here in this embrace. False hope for a captive hostage. I can’t breathe with your weight on top of me. Suffocating underneath a rescue that won’t come. Perishing along with brittle nails and a cerebral hemorrhage. This blood I offer in exchange for release. I’m sorry but I’m not sorry. Asphyxiation is something I look forward to. If I can’t be with you, I don’t want to live without you.
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Poets
Diabolical
There are no words to describe your villainy. Contaminated water leads to loss of bodily autonomy. The influence of treachery spreads where evil begets evil. Wickedness breeds more immorality. Sin has no apologies, only reasons. You were a catapult, ushering me headfirst into oblivion. You were simply diabolical. From under the skin comes a wave of kerosene. A hint of destiny lies bleeding at my feet. A devil in disguise. A horned figure without dragon breath. A cloaked specimen here to make a deal. I’m stuck in a limbo-like trance. I hope the earth opens its mouths and devours you entirely. The plague has come to take me away. A swift cleansing of the soul, a heretic rebirth of the senses. A disease of virtuous redemption. Come extract yourselves from persecution and myth. All else is endless cycles of death and comeuppance. I’ll meet you at the crossroads. I’ll make the choice to escape no matter the cost. It’s inconceivable to think we would ever last
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Poets
Turbulence
It’s been 26 years since I last boarded a plane. It’s been almost 3 decades of living firmly on solid ground. I was never a fan of oceanic views or mountainous terrain. I never looked up to the sky in awe or wondered about life on other planets. My dreams of being an astronaut never came to fruition since they never happened. I never liked flying then and I still don’t but in order to make it across the ocean in 13 hours, this is the only way.
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Fiction
She Is Not Here
She fights me. She punishes me. She knows this dependency has gone awry. She is not done with me yet. She has this curse that disembowels me. She is Mania when she is complacent and Depression when she drags me down to subterranean levels. She is the cliff I am pushed off of where I either fly or fall victim again to her devices. She claims victory when she is sated, when blessings have reached required amounts and her hunger quiets. She yells at me, “Ungrateful swine!” She is feral in her ferocious tone when waking up alive is not enough. She knows how my dreams are merely dreamt but never followed. She’s aware of the wishes that were made but never acted upon. She is the fear that allows me to succumb to my subpar mediocrity. She is the untapped potential like an oil rig that remains undiscovered. She claimed we were destined for greater things, not a life trapped in pretend acceptance. She professed that not everyone is meant for historical gain or perfection. She wouldn’t let me change the world. She merely allows me to survive the beast that slumbers inside. She slumbers still. She is the sanity I am not equipped for, an identity lacking any charm or reason. She brings me to shame, I carry this burden full of guilt and inferiority. She blocks me in, I have no say in this misery. She shields me from my own confidence. She makes me unworthy. She casts a shadow over me. She give me my faults but all I have is apathy. She shows no remorse. She is my fury and my sorrow. She gives me her pity. She is stuck in this body we both hate with a mindset from which we cannot escape. She is no cure for the weak and weary. She is no triumph for the sad and needy. She aims for my heart with no caution or mercy. She knows the joke is on her, I have none. She has no more fingers to point, no more excuses to make up. She is simply not enough. She cannot be the best version of herself. She is the shift that persuades the tides. She is the pendulum when her mood sways. She is the flip of a switch when we go from routine to utter chaos. She is me when we attempt to stand tall. She can’t see me for who we truly are, can she even see at all?
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Poets
Undine
I don't know if fish can get depressed but I've seen enough of them to believe they can. An aquarium is supposed to dazzle and delight and bring wonders from the unknown into our earthen realm. These fish and mammals are not arriving under the best circumstances though. With each newcomer, there is an energy that is being corrupted and corroded. This place isn't where they are supposed to be. My aquarium is the final resting place for most of them now. I hope divine intervention occurs or else these creatures will not survive whatever is coming...........
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Fiction
Vermillion
Part One We all have memories of a past long forgotten. They present themselves as convenient photographs or as jagged pieces of traumatic longing. I don’t miss the past; I only miss the simplicity of living with my best friend in a world where racism did not exist.
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Fiction
