like neon

I am developing an imaginary suit of armor, so that in the stillness of night, when all pretense of strength has dropped away and I am left exposed, the arrows that come for me can't pierce as deeply.

At first I pictured actual armor. Brass, glinting, annealed - strong as flint. But I am no superhero. 

Now I see light. Warm and white, humming like neon. I bring one knee down, curling into myself, and it cocoons me naturally. It wraps around my body, protective and fierce. And though there is no escaping the onslaught of memories, judgments, fears - if I meditate on this visual - the sting is mitigated. 

I'm trying to convince myself I was born with it.