“Hold fast to what you have,

So that no one may seize your crown”

You have grabby hands

Kleptomaniac

You have your own crown

But you want to dash mine to sharp metal shards

Your words breathe fire

Which melts the gold

Your bitterness tarnishes the mirror face

Like slow-creeping rot

Your empty actions pluck the gems like a scalpel

And it’s all I can do to fight you off

Often it’s my own hands

That remove the glittering diadem

From my very own brow

And shut it away in a deep drawer

My...