Poem on the occasion of the 1st anniversary of Michael Jackson's death

Tell me, what soil I must kiss, to thank
Tell me, on what stone I must kneel down, to thank
Tell me, how many thorns I must bind around my head, to thank.

If you tell me I must open my chest and tear out my bleeding heart,
If you tell me I must lay it down on your tomb,
I will do it.
To get rid of the pain, as I never can thank you
for the music.

Bittertears, June, 10.2010

I want to write a book about what I feel and want to discuss since MJ death; it is so much that it would fill thausends of pages. My life had completely changed in this last month and I am crying every day and dont know about what. I love him so much.
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4/5 April, I had the following dream:
There is a sort of public location. MJ is here and one o two other, not definable persons. MJ, dresses with short sleeves, extends his arms widely and I am shocked about the fragility of his left upper arm.
I rush to him trying to protect his upper arm with my hands.
Than MJ wants to eat something, but its midnight passed and the location had to be closed time ago. Nobody dares to tell MJ to go home. I offer him to cook something.
I am beside him. He is bending over me and I think he will kiss me, but he drills the fingers of both hands in my mouth distorting my lips similar he did himself in the ghost video.
I am sruck of shame and fly in the upper floor. There I am disoriented, because its all different I remember. I run alond the unknown corridors looking for my studio, but i cannot find it.
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This not a very good dream, but I was so happy to encounter him, I touched his body, he was really there. When I fell assleep I alwas hope he will visit me in a dream.
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