Anna Torres
Bio
I’m a 37-year old mother. I love reading, metal music, and writing. I have begun writing again since 2021
Stories (110/0)
Huntress
Don't drop your scepter. Don't hand over your crown. Don't give up your throne. Don't go lightly into that frozen ground. The blood of a thousand strong women flow within my veins. I have the power to overcome. We have gone mad with wonderous fury and sharpened claws. My future deviates from you because you never had any plans in the first place. My stubborn will will carry me over the threshold. Centuries of provoked women echo throughout my body. I will live again with the help of their strength. I will become the strongest version of me. I will shed my skin and realign anew. I will surpass you with the velocity of a viking warrior, a huntress that knows no bounds. I will not give you my surrender. You will not take me alive. My patience is enormous and grows ever steady. My aim is tried and true and strikes at the heart of your devolution. I am a masterpiece in the making, a rough draft to a final copy. My endurance will outlast you. My pain has tranformed me and it's something you will never witness. I have learned to win. You will never have control over me ever again. I will be happy again despite your absence. I do everything now just to spite you. I will prevail and you will not do anything to stop this progression. I have stopped chasing the meaningless and will embrace my own advancement. I will shine brighter than you ever imagined. My bow and arrow is my weapon. I will wipe the tears you caused and the dust from the fall. You're not the only one who can have it all.
By Anna Torres5 months ago in Poets
Demoniatic
I got exactly what I wished for and I wish I could take it back. I would have sold my soul for some form of adoration. I wanted so much to be liked back that it didn't matter how it happened. When your self esteem is nonexistent, you won't believe anyone could ever think you're pretty. When you're so self conscious, you think the world is making everyone believe you're ugly. Maybe if the devil had offered me another option, I would have changed my mind. I wish for a boy to notice me and he did. 19-year-old's don't know what they want but want it anyways. Validation is an evil thing in itself. When you can't validate yourself, you seek it from others. I sought in the eyes from a boy who smoked too much weed. He had a pretty face but don't they all? He would put his mouth on mine but there was no spark. He would try to get me high but I didn't want to. I couldn't dare look him in the eye. He tried to get me to have sex with him in his car but I did not want to. I wanted him to want me and he sure did. He didn't want me the way I wanted him to. Wishes are purely selfish and when they are granted, the genie gives you your heart's desire. Maybe we should learn to love ourselves instead.
By Anna Torres6 months ago in Fiction
Acrimonious
You are merely a speck of dust in an unforgiving universe. You are a flash of light forgotten in the indifference only you deserve. It is by providence that we've gotten this far. Our doom has come and it's about time we lay down our armor. Our swords hit the ground and we surrender. With detonation about to implode, all of our deeds are exposed. The horde has come to steal me away and I will go willingly. Our exploits are done and all of our accomplishments are meaningless. Our cruelty to each other cannot hurt us anymore. All my insults and criticisms, all your faults and afflictions. Madness has no other plans for me and all my earthly burdens are stripped from me. My suffering will not be extended. Tormented shadows will envelop us in a fiery embrace. They won't patronize us or pressure us anymore. The prophets can't speak anymore. Maybe we never heard them in the first place. The apostles await us in the afterlife and it will be a short trip. I've said farewell to the muses as they influence these words one final time. I harbored a grudge against the masochist in me but that was a waste of time. No more fights, no more empty threats. If we ever loved one another truly, it was a mistake we can't take with us. The world has gone silent from the deafening blast. The mesmerizing sky has fulfilled the rest of my dreams. The illuminated clouds are headed this way. The painted heavens are a sight to behold. Hold my hand, honey. Hold me close because this is indeed the last time. One final smile before the earth comes to ruins. We made it to the end, my dear. I hope this moment lasts forever.
By Anna Torres6 months ago in Poets
Gordian Knot
Take my hand and lead me astray. We couldn't be redeemed even if we wanted to. I wish I had watched my step before the landmine eventually detonated. You had your victory no matter the cost. I've fought this battle knowing I had already lost. With every tear, there was a new scar you gave to me. If this was game, you would have won the trophy. I followed the rules only for you to alter my fate. I miss the oblivious days and ignorant nights. Where you pieced the jagged edges back together but this glue is wearing thin. What's left for me that you haven't already spent? Rip off the camouflage and see yourself for what you really are. Incompetence at the highest level, weaponized against me. There's a weight I hope will lift off of me come death. I should say my lamentations and be done with this. A future that grew dimmer with each passing year. You won't rectify anything that you claim is not your fault. I wouldn't swallow the antidote because I was not aware I had been poisoned. I have to revise my goals since they no longer revolve around you. Correcting my trajectory so I can undo you. What is the remedy to make me whole again? Classic manipulation from a textbook narcissist. If I could hold up a mirror, you would only adore yourself. Insanity welcomes me back every time. You can't prove yourself right but you do every night. Spinning lies and theories until they've contorted to your vision. Gaslighting is a perfection you've mastered. You've ruined my sense of well-being. Lies breeding more lies, vomiting up deception. This is my unholy confession. I've grown bitter from holding up this house of straw. A fragile dwelling that's worn down and about to become dirt. I will allow it to return to its former roots. You have my blessing to die now and I hope you feel everything.
By Anna Torres6 months ago in Poets
Sledgehammer
Coward, you are in need of reparations. We are in charge of setting things right. Your compliance is in demand. Admit you were wrong. Concede in defeat and play dead already. Cleanse this forest floor with flame. I hope the flames shudder and maim as you return to dust. Allow us to heal from the damage done. We have overcome hostility and still we are the volatile ones. Monotone shadows have buried all the murders you inflicted on us. A defiler with no conscience. We rented your funeral pyre but have yet to see you on it. You shattered paradise without any doubts. We hired mercenaries but even they wouldn't dare touch your skin. Perverse corruption has altered you completely. You let the sky collapse as if your power came from above. I'll lay you down in the trenches where you'll never be found. Our wrath formed during Roman antiquity and has come full circle and is searching for you. You can't hide in a casket nor some hole made for a commoner. You can't jettison anyone anymore. Ancient Scandinavian gods cannot defend you from thunderous me. We have staked our claim on you. There was a time for amends or restitution but that time has gone. Across no man's land and fallen rubble, we spot you. I will take what is mine. You don't fear me yet but you will in time. I've traveled too far to give up now. You didn't plan on interference and now the end is nigh. You were a momentary master for this monumental disaster. This tiny speck of space and time will only end up destroyed faster. Is this the real end where time travelers will say their final goodbyes? We have gathered here across this chasm, this lovely pit, to finally extract our revenge. This is not the end. I hope you'll resurrect so I can bury you one last time
By Anna Torres6 months ago in Poets
Huntress
"By skull and tooth, our blood sisters rise! By haven or hell, we shall never divide!" My grandmother's words echo throughout the chamber of souls. That's what we call the basement but that wouldn't be spooky enough. My father was never allowed down there. Maybe that's why he left and I've always been wary of it ever since. The rituals done by my mother, my grandmother, and their ridiculous little coven is nothing short of a long running joke. They've never achieved anything and when they did, my mother took all the credit. She still believes she got all the powers in the family but really, it was me.
By Anna Torres6 months ago in Fiction
Reavers
What attempt has been successful today? Banishment or offering? Make your pleas but you cannot stay. I intend to consume you rapidly. My altar of human remains and you are now added to my collection. Bring me more lambs to slaughter. Keep me isolated and sedated and hope there's no resurrection. No crosses or holy water can violate me. Am I the external threat that terrorizes your village? Am I the looming shadow that frightens throughout the night? I'm the sickness purging itself onto your children. Violent memories stick like the blood running in the streams. I'm the epitome of evil and all your past mistakes. I'm the bastard infection spreading obsession and brutality. The scapegoat for all your sins and treachery. I lead you into darkness and you learn to adapt well. You let the illness sink in until you're a part of the masterpiece. You're a catastrophe awaiting imminent notoriety. No sympathy for me because I'll eat you whole. I'm the heartbeat tormenting generations of nonsense. Belladonna in my eyes and hemlock down my throat. Your lore has memorized my footsteps. Your fables keep the faith ongoing. Fear has led everyone to repentance. Absolution will not spare you. An invention created to take all the blame. A religion meant to soothe the passage of time. Life has ravaged us all but I'm still here to burn all you leave behind. I've witnessed obliterated stars and dying suns. I've laid waste to your decapitated daughters and half-wit sons. I cannot die. Your sacrifices keep me alive.
By Anna Torres6 months ago in Poets
Unhinged
Follow me into a sequenced dance number. Follow me into an oblivion you will never remember. A biblical force long since forgotten. We will take the ones you never wanted. We're in this together, forever intertwined. A myriad of hopelessness and absent minds. We end up together endlessly in sync. An elaborate choreography I just cannot believe. They said to join them and we will disappear. It'll be as if I was never here. Come to us and and dance in a dream of unity. This nightmare will deliver us just as we were meant to be. We can be sad or unhappy, whatever we want. My tears and grief were familiar haunts. Sinking into fake smiles and tumbling through anxiety and melancholy. We were unhinged but loving every second of being. The temples have fallen, the altars have faded. Our hierarchy is nonexistent because we are no longer jaded. We were lonely and repressed and mourning ourselves out loud. The prodigal son has returned but we have driven him out. They cannot save us nor can they change this world. This is the rotten way they've chosen to raise us in a universe gone absurd. The days have blinded us and blurred our perceptions. We've wasted our nights praying for an escape but received only depression. The departed were lucky they were spared this life. Our spirits cannot be lifted because our connection will suffice. We join hands while this army of weariness jumps off the cliff. We don't expect to fly but we pin our hopes on if. How can we continue when we are simply not enough? The sad cannot lead the sad because when we march, our despair forces us to give up.
By Anna Torres6 months ago in Poets
C
You're worth the loss of my dignity. A pride that withstands the slap to the face. You disappear only to ruin a good luck streak. I cannot keep up with your pace. You drop me faster than the speed of light. We try and resurrect our failing tragedy. I push you over into monogamy but my hands only grip your shirt sleeves. When you pray, I hope you say my name. What have we done to each other? Is it worth anything anymore? To save ourselves, we must smother. What will we do to each other in retaliation? We are heathens corrupting one another into obscenity. We are savages lukewarm in our cannibilistic nature. It's so addicting this inconsistency. We descend further into foolish territory. There's an inhumane speed to your trickery. A pattern of catastrophic proportions. You are always heard but are unseen. A dynamic of victory and loss. We are on opposite intentions. I tried to change the formula but you are dead set on taking vengeance. You travel beyond the sound of my despair. You hunt further from the light of my convictions. There are universal constants in this world but you parallel only erratic consciousness. You are not a part of this utopia. This negligence is the embodiment of manipulative torture. I can't fix what isn't broken, just unsure. I hope you find the girl who allows herself to suffer. To claim you as my own and keep you still. While you spread your wings and attempt to fly. The black hole in your soul cannot let light escape. I cannot be the only prisoner anymore stuck in time. This treadmill of exertion takes us to the stars and back. I tried to find the right words but come up empty. This simulation has run its course and we are crashing. I'm running faster than the speed of light and now I'm free
By Anna Torres7 months ago in Poets
Reprisal
He's feral like a wild animal gone rabid. He's agile like a predator that's taken to flight. He's savage like a lit fuse about to implode. He's primal like a retina that's lost its precious sight. A heathen that's always on reconnoiter. I can't escape for that would destroy the established order. You lead this domestic dance with every step on my hand. A fascist general with a strategy and a plan. I'm on borrowed time that's been given little by little. Grateful for crumbs from a table that's too afraid to meddle. Weakness shown to your master has gone down sharp. I thought I'd be spared but you never miss your mark. You dictate with your fists and your fury. Another day of wrath and another night of misery. A death sentence has been singing in the wind. A headstone in the making for the grave I'm dancing in. A disturbance is a substitute for this heated vendetta. You created this feud all for an elaborate operetta. Acts of sedition are quickly put out by confusion and reason. The rebellion in me has erupted into a pointless treason. Digging my way out like a zombie out of the frozen ground. Compromising my womb like a coffin being lowered without a sound. I've repented from devils and demons and remain unredeemed. I've atoned from blissful incoherence and still give out my apologies. I've mourned the audacity and the frightened nerves I haven't collected yet. The grief balances on a tight rope but marches to a deafening drum set. In the darkness we slumber but I never descend much. Blinding ambition keeps me alive but I am misfortune untouched. Mating in the moonlight with claws and fangs exposed. We don't live with regrets but have plenty of scars to unload. They know fear but I know entrapment and a razor wire fence. Bound to cowardice dressed in a suit that lives to offend. These are the rules that I obey with my body and my tongue. Primal are the instincts and urges he has but sadly, I have none
By Anna Torres7 months ago in Poets
Mad Max: Fury Road is one massive u-turn
Mad Mad: Fury Road is a film that takes us on a trip filled with explosions and spectacles. We go on this journey just to return exactly where we started. There is no story to tell. The lack of direction isn’t enough to satisfy the hunger for a good storyline.
By Anna Torres8 months ago in Critique