the prince complex

I had these gashes on my cheeks
from my time spent duelling dragons
that never really healed right

they crack open sometimes
when my mouth strains too hard
trying not to frown

but when I remember 
the weight of the shield in my hand
cool metal on my palm
armor dragging down my arms
my bones fighting gravity
for the splendor of victory
never tasted

my lungs prepare for a battlecry
but instead I use that breath
to save another kind of life

the sort that curls up
in my cradled fingers
& hugs my knuckles close

the sort that begs for magnetism
& the art of dependability

my wire frame
still can balance a sword
but alongside it I’ve mastered
my firebreathing
so that I can protect you
from whichever side I’m on

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