LuminUmbra
American
I am torn between dreaming and doing. I am caged by inner crisis. Left to my own devices, I have encapsulated myself in comfort,and comfortable lies. I am not blind. But I have closed my eyes. I am pretending that I believe in the God my fellow Christians say I am supposed to. I understand cynicism. I bleed it. Your love is not my solution. I am not healed by your myriad affections. But while you're here,you are my bandage. You patch me up, but I still have ragged edges. We have caged ourselves in circular conversations. We attempt to placate ourselves with each new thing we lay our hands on. We are comforted by promises of panaceas. The comfort lasts as long as the adhesive on a band aid. And we all know that those fall off when we go back to play.
