Mediocrity
Mediocre
No good melody
A definition stained on the upper region of my brain
Actively producing fungi fumes
Nauseated, you are excused
Instant hate when uttering its name
It makes our hands shake, to be displayed in such a way
It has no purpose, only an intention
Killing curiousity, by outlining others self righteously
Mediocre is my creative space for acceptance and I have requested an invitation to everybody
No reasoning just letting go of expectations consuming
Hope to see you soon

My third eye stings from staring at Suns
Pineal gland open and gods voice
What's life
What's life?
I will bring with me my guitar
And find some lonesome hill
Where only madmen have trod before
And I'll play myself a song
I'll sing
What's life
What's life?!
What's death?
My eyes can read
What the ancients said
My third eye knows
What it means

Most nights I sit outside
Just me and the crickets chirping and of course my wine
A husband gone most of the time, hardworking a love defined
I hear my words echoing as I anticipate writing them slowly  
I don't know how to break it down, this urge growing
The cars drive rumbling, as if my soul is colliding with a semi
I know what should be done but I'm not ready
How can you complain about the deliberate choices you made
We reminisce just to ******* our blinded heart guiding
I want to know where to go
My soul already has the knowledge, I just like fighting
The crickets are confiding as the breeze throws the roses aroma in front of me
Breathing deeply, a defense mechanism when the tears are sliding
A plastic 3 dollar crown will be the closes I come to being a queen, as I hear the muffled soothing music in the background
Now I lay against the pavement to sleep because my bed is just to lonely