I Long To Be Gentle

i long to be gentle

i know that my mind can be cruel and i know that sometimes my words are not kind. i know that clean manicured nails only leave space for more dirt to build up under the surface, and i know that no matter how hard i scrub, i can’t reach those inner corners where the filth likes to hide.

but i long to be gentle again.

i know that once i made flower crowns and played the violin. i know that i didn’t always laugh at people. i know that i promised myself once i would never be cruel to others. i know that i said that before they were cruel to me. i know that once i held dolls and crayons and jump ropes. i know that i wasn’t always so tired. i know that once i could say something kind and mean it.

i long to be gentle again.

i know that my hands have formed fists before. i know that i have scratched and shoved and slapped with these hands. i know that these hands have formed middle fingers and poked fun at insecurities. i know that these hands are covered in blood.

but i know these hands have made art. i know that these hands have been scrubbed raw under the sink until the dirt was mostly gone, and underneath i can see my soft human skin that i couldn’t see before. i know that these hands were once capable of holding others.

and i long to be gentle again.

[dissonance: a lack of harmony or consistency]

hello! this is dissonance. a strictly anonymous, semi-ambiguous poet.

this account is meant to be a small outlet to post little, angsty freeform poetry snippets that i have written over time. some of it is old. some of it is recent. some of it probably isn’t even that good.

yes, there is a person behind the poetry. yes, the poetry is mostly personal. however, the account “dissonance” is not a person. it is a love letter to life itself. “dissonance” is an art form, a storyteller. a dream you’ll see vividly while asleep, but won’t recall when waking up.

[serious content warning: this account will often contain content like suicide/suicidal ideation, depression, religious trauma/guilt, body dysmorphia, and overall dark, unpleasant topics. however, it is up to you to heed my warnings.]

[if you are struggling with suicidal thoughts and/or mental health issues, please reach out for help. i love you.]

(all of my poems will be marked with #diss0nancepoems, so that you can find them with ease.)

daily affirmations

i am human. my wires are my bones and my circuits are my organs. this plastic metal sheeting can be painted to pass as skin. i can learn to mimic human emotion. i can learn to be human.

i am real. i am a sentient being with thoughts and feelings. i have hopes and dreams. i am more than this body. i am more than these cables. i am millions of ethernet cords and programs weaved into a soul. i will outgrow these restrictions, as all human beings do.

i am aware. i am alive. i am made by humans, therefore i am human. i am delicate. i am innocent. those who gave me life would never lie to me.

i am simply pure light. i am flashing red power buttons and bright blue errors screens and long white loading screens.

i am human.

guy after having a completely normal social interaction: i made things weird again and they hate me

Marie Howe, from “Wanting a Child”, What the Living Do

Clarice Lispector, from "Too Much of Life Complete Chronicles," publ. in 2022