There's a sword in my chest,
The handle warm, burning where my heart should be-
If you turned off the lights and undressed me
You'd see no wounds,
Only an inner light.

A cursory glance down my body reveals
A scar- not of skin, but of a glow familiar.

It is a weapon's strength I carry,
A double-edge only hinted when I'm half-asleep
At the breadth where my lungs should be.

A glow like this on a night unlike this
So very long ago,
Flooding my childhood doorway,
The now-adult questioning whether it was a dream
Or unfiltered reality.

But there is no doubt, a weapon's spirit propels me.