my heart lived an ex-patriot

lately, life consists of a lot of me picking up. i come home from long hours of work and explode onto my bedroom floor. i wake up and pick of the pieces until it is time to go back to work. i am adjusting. i am conforming my life to a routine i never thought i'd follow. and, even working with the things that i love most dearly in an office of sorts walled in books and portraits, i get tired.

lately, there has been a yearning to conform. this is all different from how i imagined it. my youthful heart dreamt of trailblazing new life ways, to tell stories never heard. my heart lived an ex-patriot in its hometown. now, i look forward to making my bed. to putting all of my things back where they belong. deeper still, i have no fight in my against tradition. i take a step on an ancient road, and think, it is good and right to follow the ways of so many, to stand in the line of generations.

it is an old, settling sort of feeling. and peace descends as a covering on my head.