HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARYAN!
Okay....um this is a poem I wrote for you...a little cheesy but yeah....also I have used "and" like 25 times so ignore that repitition
There's also a QR code maze, only scan the correct one
When I was little, I used to hate cutting nails
Cause it felt like cutting a part of myself
Like cutting my veins and letting it bleed
And it dripping it away from me-bead by bead.
Cause that was also me. Like how much of that grayish roughness of my mole under my feet was me and how much of that wave of my hair that was always in high tide-
Cause I know me
And I think I know you.
In my life-
You are my nails.
And I like you that way.
The streaks of red and the spots of white(and don't even say calcium deficiency-)
The flesh beneath the tough eficiency.
You grow. And sprout.
And sometimes I am forced to cut that growth.
As sometimes even blood needs to let out.
And that pain needs to meld into neutrality.
And every breath exhaled.
It is needed. It ensures that I don't-
Forget what you mean to me.
Is a surrender
And you made thousands of mine mean something.
Nails always grow back,
It always is me. Forever.
And so are you.
Grow back. And I know you would.
And I would paint you. And love you.
Until I cut you off again.
But don't give up on me.
I am stubborn but I am me and you
Are the nails.
And I like Nails.
I like you too.
We grow together.
Heal. And scar.
Nothing can stop growth. And healing. And nails.(Except Partial nail plate avulsion and chemical cauterization ofc).
You nail it.
You screw it.
But at the end of the day.
All that matters is you. The nails.
Not the dirt underneath.
I don't know what friendship means,
But for all it's worth,
When I hear the word I think of you.
And nails. And you. Always.
Come oh pigeon! Strech thy claws!
And carry my proclaimation of what is and was!
Comes the 21st century when the pigeons fly dead,
but now I do have something else!
Only we five use it to express the unexpressed,
And breathe spirits into the bird's nest.