The Gauntlet
Fear is on my side
I'm right where I started again
Wallowing in self doubt and throwing pity parties for myself
The finish line never felt so far away
I'm in last place and this is a race I'm not prepared for
I remember trying to banish these thoughts before they ever start
I just decided to simply try my best and hope for a miracle
I remember writing poetry on my arms and covering up the scars
The past has a way of continuing to control me
Where are the blessings I crave so dearly?
Why am I stricken with discord so abundantly?
Discouraged time and time again
I know the way to overcome is to just to go straight through
I wish I could just fast forward to the future where I'm content and grateful
I'm no longer waiting on the universe to create a happy ending
I'm motivated enough and stubborn enough to trudge through the trenches
I'm not where I want to be but I'm further along than where I used to be
My plans gave way to alternative routes and scenic detours
Assuming the worst will happen will never have a choke hold on me again
Projecting false prophecies and beliefs is a hobby I don't have time for
The future is waiting on me to arrive and I will greet it with a smile
The ending is only what we make of it
The beginning is the most difficult step especially when we fall off time and time again
About the Creator
Anna Torres
I’m a 37-year old mother. I love reading, metal music, and writing. I have begun writing again since 2021
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The world revolves around me
The world revolves around me. The sun has got nothing on me. We will never be equals and that's the truth you never acknowledged. You dare not intimidate me with all your inferior vanity. My internal dialogue is more brutal than you anyways. Cutthroat and ravenous. How can I become my own best friend? How do I put myself first before anyone else? I've sacrificed myself so you can walk all over me. I let my anxiety eat me alive. I will apologize to you 1000 times before I ever apologize to myself. I believed in the facade you presented. I chose to look the other way with your egotistical manner always in my face. I'm not asking for the unattainable. I'm not praying for miracles or the improbable. I want bliss to find me before I find it. Clarity above judgement and wisdom above sacrifice. You need to calm down and see the bravery within. Stability in the mind and a body that aches to live. I have no choice but to destroy this fragile foundation and reconstruct all over again. I must fortify my walls so they will never succumb to toxic storms and selfish endeavors. I can only control my own needs and desires; I couldn't control your inconsistency and incompetence. I wasted years altering your shape to fit into my conquering plans. These plans lay burned and exonerated in the fire I used to purge myself. What I called love was only what I tolerated. I allowed your actions to trigger me countless times. I allowed you to use me as a stepping stone while I groveled at your occasional appearance. I attached to you like super glue because I couldn't attach to myself. This endless cycle of giving and giving has erupted into the empty vessel that is me. You thought I was cruel in my convictions but I was always more critical and doubtful of myself even more. These cold and indifferent pieces of my soul are the same as the intense and complex ones that claim to have loved you once. They were capable of survival before I met you. They will endure long after your scent has left my bedroom. I still have so much love to give: to myself and the next one who deserves all of it. You didn't disrupt my peace enough to change me. You haven't robbed me of my ambition or motivation. I was fine before you; I will excel even more without you. This death, this grief, this zombie apocalypse is not the event that will break me. You don't have that kind power over me. It's going to take a universal push for me to let my guard down again. Maybe next time it will be worth it and I will be made whole again. I promise you I will never settle for the average mundane ever again
By Anna Torres3 months ago in Poets
The Singer So Shy
She stood near the cold fireplace, watching the second-hand tick down to the hour. In another minute, the clock's bird would emerge and warble the hour. She reached up and touched the clock, tracing the gentle slope of the farmhouse roof, then trailing down the lilac strewn side, to the white fence framed dooryard. She wished she was there, where the air would smell of lilacs rather than smoke.
By Judah LoVato4 days ago in Fiction
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