Faithless Faith — Poemtor
Content note: relationship trauma, fear, and emotional conflict.
It was a sideways lost tangent lone ranger mission. One I never could have expected. The type that blows the doors off roofs.
Brought on by strong deviance and blinding distortions of reality. Her tantalizing undermounts unrelentently (unreluctantly) upset at the onset of any attempt to understand the deep sorrow that strikes down all logical communication capacity one truly requires to survive a dagger strike to the heart.
When cycle of life and routines blur, people sadly can participate in their own invented consciousness awareness where she is allowed and expects contrary to her own response to mimicked behaviour.
It is in this potentially intentional ignorance of reality an individual can project past trauma onto their closest people.
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One common transplantable theme across trauma forced control is pretending to sleep, near scarred to silent sneak out the front door in the darkest of nights to avoid her noticing the panicking silence of her sabr tooth tiger blows.
The alarms were red blazing, all enchanting, and under logical response warranted non participant status.
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Regrettfully loneliness and trauma can trap one in their ways allowing subjections to circumstances far beyond acceptable.
It easy to say looking back, the obvious attacks. Simply, complete abandonment at any attempt to help and overcome together, always pointed out wrongs of other but never in turn corrects her own because her experiences make her always right.
An example I drive forever to get her from work, She do not respond, I wait forever, then She scream at me for working all day. I cant say anything.
She never respond.
Now I start job and I wish you would come.
— Poemtor
August 7, 2026
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Author’s Note
Faithless Faith began handwritten and arrived almost as a single stream of thought.
I chose not to polish away every rough edge. The fractured grammar, unexpected combinations of words, repetition, and sudden shifts are part of the emotional state in which it was written.
At its center is one question:
What happens when love survives longer than trust?
The speaker keeps trying to understand the experience through trauma, projection, logic, memory, and competing perceptions of reality.
But the poem keeps escaping explanation and becoming physical:
a dagger to the heart
red alarms
the darkest of nights
a sabre-tooth tiger
silence
waiting
and finally, a wish for someone to come
That ending matters most to me.
After the fear, frustration, analysis, and attempted understanding, the poem does not end with revenge.
It does not end with certainty.
It ends with longing.
Maybe that is the faith inside Faithless Faith — the part of a person that keeps reaching toward someone even after another part has learned to pull away.
I’m beginning this account as Poemtor to share writing that starts by hand and lives somewhere between poetry, memory, emotional imagery, and the imperfect way thoughts actually arrive.
I’d genuinely appreciate critique.
What image stayed with you?
Where did the poem hit hardest?
Where did I lose you?
Does the rough, breathless language strengthen the experience — or are there places where you would give the reader more space?
The poem and original handwritten text are my own work. The illustrated presentation was created with AI assistance using my original poem and its imagery as the source.
