Every rose has its thorn
Every ocean its undertow
You have yours, but I've been lucky
You let me past those walls
And what I found was a friend for a lifetime

I can't remember the day we met
But that's what makes us ourselves
Because you're here to do that for me

It just seems like I've always known you

I've never looked up to someone as much as I do to you
Your artwork, creativity
Your cool rationale,
Your sassy smirk,
The ability you've manifested to be an adult
Driving, job and school, taking care of yourself

You're by my side to search for what I've lost
Literally, Metaphorically
You see this town in the same light I do
We have the same passion, same plans, same past
Almost

When my demons snake thier limbs out for me, it is you I use as my shield

I think you may even be better at keeping things hidden than I am
Thank everything you let me in
You are beautiful, perfect
You do enough, try hard enough
You don't need to lose weight, you can have whatever makes you happy
If you can't trust anyone else, you can trust me
I'm sticking around

I hope I remember the pirated kids movies, all the hair styles you had to do for me, the hiding in your basement from the heat, the hot chocolate, the lunches sitting on the floor of the hall

But there is one thing I am certain I will never forget and that is you being you Aqua
Thank you for being the winter to my spring
Thank you for being a forever friend

Thank you for being you

I.
This is just another bad poem
Just vomited-thoughts-left-on-paper poem
This is a collection of grammatical errors
This would surely make my English teacher cringe
But no worries, I didn’t write this for her

II.
This bad poem is for you

May my subject and verb disagreement
remind you of all those misunderstandings that lead to raised voices
and nights where I cried myself to sleep

Sentence construction was never my strength, it still isn’t, maybe that’s why you never truly understood me—
called me difficult and bipolar
You said that I was too much

Did it ever occur to you that you might just misread me, like homonyms,
same words but with different meanings
misread my jealousy with accusations,
my concern for excessive affection

You said that I loved you too much
but darling, did you even love me at all?

Did I put too much meaning on your words,
turned them into similes and metaphors?
Turned your literal statements into figures of speech
You told me that you liked me,
so I blissfully interpreted it as a hyperbolic expression— called it love when obviously it wasn’t

III.
I was never good at using punctuations
I put too much commas,
unnecessary, misused, I kept trying to hold on
Afraid of the inevitable end,

Switched to semi-colons in an attempt to make it a few words longer

Because despite all our grammatical errors
no matter how shameful our piece of literature was to the English language

It was beautiful to the untrained eye,
To those who read poetry as it is
To those who don’t dig deep in search of true meaning behind the metaphors
It was beautiful to me

But I eventually learned that infinitives and infinities are different,
in spite of sharing infinite as the root word
Like our love,

started with something so promising
but unlike most novels,
there’s no happy ending

So I accepted defeat,
accepted the inevitable and bitter end
No more committing the same mistakes over and over again,
the same words over and over again,

Accepted the fact that synonyms existed,
words with the same meaning but also entirely different
new and unfamiliar, foreign and peculiar

IV.
I accepted defeat
No more commas or semi-colons
We have reached the couplet of our free formed sonnet—

I was never good with endings, I don’t think I’ll ever be,
So darling I hand you the pen, set us both free.