I wanna thank you like the world thanked the beatles for their music.
I wanna thank you like two lovers thanked the bees for such beautiful flowers.
I wanna thank you like the disco ball thanked the bee gees for their grooves.
And I wanna thank you like the pop culture thanked micheal jackson for his moves.
I wanna thank but i can't thank you enough, Well you've been there, And i swear my heart was a rusty old door crumbling to smithereens and each piece has felt the cold touch of the floor. But you were there for me like a trampoline lifting me so high when i can't lift myself up. Helping me fly whenever my wings got cut. Hearing me sigh 300km apart.
I wanna thank you and i can't thank you enough. For you being my only source of wholesomeness. For you giving me my first kiss . And never making me regret it.
I wanna thank you as hard as i wanna hold you cause you're so far away. I wanna thank you again for you to stay. Cause you can't leave me lost. For i love you the most.
I wanna thank you for being my blood. I wanna thank you for you being what every love song is about. To the world I wanna shout, that you are the most amazing person i've ever known.
I wanna say thanks cause thanks to you i could write this poem thanking you.
I can hear myself shouting it in my head in front of an audience measured by you.
I wanna thank you cause you're just too good to be true.

i wrote two long complicated poems.
and somehow couldn't understand them either with such complicated vocabulary.
until she said "i miss us"
and that was their summary.

there's a weird thing about this poem.
for some reasons i am unable to                      .

'tis not the therapeutic night i wished for.
'tis not the therapeutic reaction i hoped for.
'tis not the therapeutic approach i looked for.
'tis not the therapeutic hug i'm still longing for.
'tis not the therapeutic gaze i look for.
'tis not the therapeutic interest i anticipated to perceive.
'tis just me being naive.
no happiness should be linked to your love anymore.
even tho , you is who i'll always care for.
'tis not you but none can stop this personal blasphemy, not even me.

.
                                                        .
     ­                          .      
                                                             .
                                     ....

you're all mistaken, here's my statement.
i'm feeling rather vacant, by thy feelings i feel forsaken.
am i mistaken? here's my statement
i'm feeling rather insubstantial. by thy love.

'tis a love i adolize but my heart explained it in a way that i can't decipher.
thus these inklings seem consequently inconsequential.

'tis a love i miss, withstanding the hurdles that i too have to withstand.

i'm not mistaken, here's my statement.
thy love felt and feels rather righteous. but i feel rather unwell.

grant me a therapeutic night, or a therapeutic hug that's all i need.
i prayed..
god, accord her with tolerance and merriment so she can grant me some time to recover
i still pray..

and i'll be back longing your presence with a disturbing anticipation of thy feelings not forsakening me.

"cotton minds", yes cotton minds.
cotton minds generating dopamine with their childish brains down the cotton slides.
at the beach, a treasure is what every cotton mind finds.
but no sandpaper even with a vision that is greater could see it.
and when the day is over and it's time to go home, every cotton mind cries because of the lies of his hater, creater, lover, maker.
you guessed it, "the sandpaper".
cotton minds are childish, no sandpaper would understand them cause they'd rather see a fish on a dish rather than in the sea.
see? cotton minds are everywhere yet so rare, with a hope and a flarethat no sandpaper could every show.
show? yes.
a teeny-tiny show is what you're reading and with it you're having a nostalgic feeling of your previous cotton life.
in your mind you hear the silence, with stress and finance.
your old cotton mind melted until it's now sandpaper.
up many levels and your little angels became bigger devils.
flushed down your dreams and hopes and now we're all cotton mind killers.
right now as you're being told, cotton minds are more precious than gold.
it's something you can't own or hold.
something you need but on it you let your anxiety feed.
sandpaper could be a doctor, but when cotton he played soccer.
sandpaper could also be a dentist, but when cotton his dreams faded in the mist.
but we all know that sandpaper is a cotton mind fader.
once you have it you forget the happiness and the glee.
check your reaction and see.
sea? yes in a reminder of the sea, cotton is water, cooler, smoother, and better but weaker fellow than the hotter, cruel, yellow, denser and sandier sandpaper.