i must admit i was excited and a bit worried when your demise came questioning your stride

i was looking forward to you falling on your face from your descent from grace

i wanted to believe failure was an option even for the blessed and biased

but i also wanted to believe you were strong enough to refuse defeat

yes, at your lowest point, still a highness

and likely a royal pain in my ass

maybe, just maybe, i thought i could rise from these ashes too

i could outlast these scars and wounds

it just was the jealousy of it all to see you keep succeeding as i kept bleeding

you are always 3 steps ahead when it comes to my bitter tea steeping

yet you offer your honey all the same

which makes my jealousy feel conniving

"be careful", i say,

"one wrong clockwise stir of my spoon and i banish a friend so lucky except for the fact they didn't wait for my tea to cool"