Dethroned
Misery cannot find me
I've returned from dehydration in the arid desert. I've resurfaced from forced hiatus in isolated Siberia. You held too much influence and power in just one useless finger. But I had the common sense to finally push you away so you wouldn't linger. A pariah speaking at a different frequency than me. We were speaking in tongues and alternating tones that neither of us could decipher. This vendetta will outlast us both. I've placed myself back on the altar and knocked you off your pedestal. Invincible and supreme, there's nothing more you can throw at me. You made me yield when I should have skyrocketed. The defeat you had orchestrated will backfire on you. The elaborate cage you trained me in couldn't withstand my wrath. I've destroyed the illusions you had set in stone. The firing squad is here to finish what I started. Execution by guillotine is a waste of energy. Trial by fire is the best way to go. I've yielded too many times and now the answer is simply no. I wasn't afraid to die with you by my side. I was afraid to live and not dare step out from under your shadow. The fearmonger in me sought more than anything you were ever gracious enough to hand to me. This isn't love nor was it madness. It was an excuse to stay stagnant that made my insanity completely pointless. I assumed we shared our sickness together but it was I who suffered alone. You made your exit so sudden that I was left with this burden to exist alone. You thought you had made this choice for me. I thought I would avenge myself but it is my silence that will speak volumes for me. My choice to remain supreme will perform the spectacle you will never witness. My ability to be invincible is the moment you will never see. Some people will tear themselves apart to find their worth. I always knew I was. I just couldn't locate it until I eradicated you first. You forced me to capitulate and emulate surrender. But I never acquiesced and I never will. The only armistice I agree to is emancipation. Keep your shield up and your armor intact. You may need it when I strike you down and step over your corpse to find my ultimate peace. Misery cannot find me. There is nothing more you can do to deplete me
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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More stories from Anna Torres and writers in Poets and other communities.
Point Nemo
Extinct have gone the novices of time. It's not the damned that have been erased but the rustic and the lame. Trapped beneath camouflage and outdated routines. They carved their misfortunes in bone but I have carved nothing, Still waiting for my turn at evolution. The misguided burned their hands with the fire they created. Discovering stolen weapons and reshaped maps. Surviving by doing the most mediocre and mundane. The divided society within me must be restored. You wouldn't allow me to eat at the table because you occupied all the seats. A civil war has erupted inside of me and the terrorist you became has ridiculed me long enough. I was the caveman drawing scriptures on the brand new walls while you claimed to be the new messiah. You drove me to the edge of the world and left me there on the side of the unpaved road, alone. I prepared cobblestones into fortified statues and citadels. I created epochs and enduring eras. I harvested the best that resided within me but you always doubted me. You projected false appearances in order to rise above. Everything I did was never enough. You conquered distant lands and exotic societies but you couldn't tame your own ignorance. I'm not the historic ape kept in a gilded cage for your own amusement. I am the next stage of natural selection while you are in rapid decline. Your words are unknown now because language has progressed faster than your own tongue. This massive shift is the iceberg launching itself into the salty ocean. You shrink and withdraw while I migrate and advance. Go and retreat while you still can. I will not be lessened by the likes of you. Diminish your own idleness and I will succeed where you already failed. My work is not yet done. I am a continuous web of developing perfection. You couldn't make me go extinct. This word doesn't apply to me anymore. My limbs have evolved into wings and you will watch as they soar
By Anna Torres22 days ago in Poets
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis6 days ago in Humans
Comments (1)
I love this line: A pariah speaking at a different frequency than me. But here is the essence: My ability to be invincible is the moment you will never see. Some people will tear themselves apart to find their worth. I always knew I was.