I am a knight in shining armor
My enemy lay in a castle built of my own thoughts
My sword, the tower of books that lay on my bedside table
My shield, a cup of tea and a funny tv show
My armor is strewn about me in a mix of pillows, blankets, and snacks.
The first strike is sent from the tower.
A flaming ball of pure steel, bubbling and hissing in my direction
I raise my mighty goblet and take a long sip
My sword slashes through the first of many attacks
I breathe in the sweet scent of a beginner’s victory
I prepare for the bloody gruesome battle that is about to ensue
I batten down the hatches, set the walls in order, pile on my armor, grasp my shield, and prepare to attack.
“You’re nothing and you will never become anything”
I can see that I am hit, blood seeps out of the wound in a slow trickle toward the ground.
I grasp my sword and make my move.
Percy Jackson taught me that the mightiest sword is a pen and so I write.
My sword slashes through thoughts and worries and arrogant monsters.
My shield clashes with the heavy metal maces of stinging insults protecting me from worse wounds.
My armor holds strong against outside forces and saves me where my shield cannot.
It is a long and arduous battle between brain and mind.
The enemy may have been defeated, but it will be back.
And we will be ready.