Anna Torres
Bio
I’m a 36-year old wife and mother. I love reading, metal music, and writing. I have bipolar depression and have begun writing again since 2019
Stories (51/0)
A Bipolar Playlist
.38 Special-Hold on Loosely When I was young growing up in San Antonio, Texas, my family and I took 3 road trips to Disneyland in California. My dad would be the main driver and he played many random songs on cassette along the way. This is the song I remember most and whenever I hear it, I reminisce about those road trips I miss dearly.
By Anna Torres5 days ago in Beat
A Bipolar Playlist
https://youtu.be/vJtf7R_oVaw .38 Special-Hold on Loosely When I was young growing up in San Antonio, Texas, my family and I took 3 road trips to Disneyland in California. My dad would be the main driver and he played many random songs on cassette along the way. This is the song I remember most and whenever I hear it, I reminisce about those road trips I miss dearly.
By Anna Torres5 days ago in Beat
Culpable
I’m sorry my love but your sacrifice is needed. There’s a time and a place for us but not here, not now. The throne calls to me. I seek a crown of fire. A dragon I’ve become and now the moment is dire. My sword is my covenant. A kingdom borne of trial and tribulation. Oh discord, dismantling everything we’ve built. You stand tall while my spine shrank, melting into the covers of a lovers’ bed. I’ve met the devil but he’s got nothing on what I’m about to do. My avarice is a cunning device meant for mutinous self-destruction. I’ve traded my submission for comfort over and over again. The fates control the world but I hold your life in my wretched grasp. There is no ending with the both of us still intact. My dear, you’ve taken enough out of me. Nothing we’ve accomplished results in equality. Uneven squabbles and perilous greed. Everything you want is nothing I need. It’s not enough to deviate from this recklessness. I must remove your identity entirely. All manifestations of your face will be shattered. Stricken from books, erased from memory. You’ll end up like all the others, forgotten and lost to indifference. Time is not an ally. Time is a countdown, announcing to all your upcoming removal. I’m sorry, my love, for not being sorry. I apologize for my lack of apology. Our love has come to its inevitable demise. A marriage erupting from the chaos within. A pact imploding from the passion inflamed. I’ve said my promises but I’ve renounced them. I take back my vows and my commitments. I chose me over you and as I walk over you for the final time, I am grateful for your sacrifice.
By Anna Torres6 days ago in Poets
Immurement
We all know you’re dead, you just don’t know it yet. Bones will become brittle, blood will evaporate. Tendons will hardened, skin will calcify. A coffin above the ground. A sarcophagus that lies in wait. History will judge you and finally seal your fate. Was there any doubt in your undeniable guilt? Your tomb will lie undisturbed and unraided. Bedouin tribes will keep your name silent. The desert will claim you as a lost traveler. Nomadic wanderers will leave you in forced peace. This denouement will climax and abruptly cave in on you. Future theives will never know you existed. Your origins will simply convert into energy and vaporize. It will be the last thing you ever do. Your gift to humanity is not your confession but your absence when we are finally rid of you. A vanishing provoked by hostile hands. You made your bed and we will strap you down to it. A gradual decline in your capabilities. Imprisonment is not enough punishment. We must rejoice in your eventual decay. Your years of torment have ceased and we look forward to a world that no longer exists with you in it. Your sentence will echo in the chambers of the pharaohs. Silent are the voices you took. Silent is now what becomes of you. This world is finally through with you.
By Anna Torres7 days ago in Poets
Tundra
A hike off the infamous trail. A perilous expedition, a journey off of the glorious path. These footprints keep going nowhere again. I have reached the inevitable end just for me to turn around and do it all over again. I have crossed over frozen ponds and hiked over treacherous terrain. You hold custody over my body but I keep trying to break free. I have ventured northward over hundreds of miles all for a smack to the face. I have gestured to the south all for an assault to my senses. To the west lies a broken wrist that prayed for an end to your madness. An eastern wind gave birth to a revival but you stomped it down to debris. I watch the sun peak over the horizon but you still are only eons away. This tundra is a blessing away from your thunder and rage. I have to return home eventually but this trip is annual now. It's a perennial power you use to abuse me. To prove my love, I must do all of the above. Domestic tranquility is a cover for violent genius. I haven't achieved maximum clarity yet I do all of this for just one toxic embrace from you. A pilgrimage I believe will cure me. A hope that may never die. One day you will love me the way you were meant to. For now, I must travel abroad to demonstrate my loyalty. A devotion to a volatile god, unreciprocating and unrequited. Balancing on a jagged blade, tiptoeing across a dried up reservoir. You are the tragedy that sparks my resolve. You keep on giving then taking away your temperamental love.
By Anna Torres18 days ago in Poets
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 Torres18 days 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 Torresabout a month 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 Torresabout a month 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 Torresabout a month 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 Torres2 months ago in Poets
