I might kill myself. But isnt that what every one says? That they might. The ones who do just make the ones who couldnt sad.

No matter what i do where i go somebody is gonna hate me and hate somebody too

Poem To The Freaks -Jack Micheline

To lives as I have doneis surely aburd
in cheap hotels and furnished rooms
To walk up side streets and down back alleys
talking to oneself
and screaming to the sky obscenities
That the arts is a rotten business indeed
That mediocrity and the rage of fashion rules
My poems and paintings piled on the floor
To be one with himself
A saint
A Prince
To Persevere
Through storms and hard-ons
Through dusk and dawns
To kick death in the ass
To be passed over like a bad penny
A midget
An Ant
A roach
A freak
A Hot Piece
An Outlaw
Raise your cup and drink my friend
Drink for those who walk alone in the in the night
To the cripled and the blind
To the lost and the damned
To the lone bird flying in the sky
Drink to wonder
Drink to me
Drink to pussy and dreams
Drink to madness and all the stars
I hear the birds singing

May 16, 1975 San Francisco, CA

Whats real anymore? I need some real help. I need something...

To You~ Walt Whitman Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you? 1860

Falling away from the world a little.

Steeping forward to fall head first down the
long tunnel of what once was love
Hands reaching out to rip and tare away
at your used soul
Carrying away your mind, your body wanders
the campus of your heart
Every dorm empty and every classroom over
filled.

Who cares?

It's a slow burning image in her eyes that reflect my soul,
Burning thoughts that roast my mind, and loosen
my grip on this reality that the world has dropped at my naked feet.
Ground gives away to my imagination, falling around the leaves that cover the ground
around where i once
stood strong facing into the wind staring at it's tired eyes,
losing your mind you cant help but wonder
what happens to it once you can no longer find it.

It's lost between the cracks in society's dance floor.