We found comfort in compatible chaos.

I just wanted to be drunk for the last four
Or five months of my voluntary exile.

When I was young I was praised for my intellect,
I was inflated and strung out on sheer potential
Without focus.
So I wrote sonnets on the merits of photosynthesis and
Trigonometry.
I ran grammar marathons.
I searched for the artist inside me and found civil war histories.

I came home unsure and afraid of the future.
I came home unfinished and.