the artist

I was an artist.
everyday I worked & I worked perfecting my craft.
but this, this is not art that can be seen in a museum.
this is not art to be hung above the fire place, or be posted on the fridge.
this art paints the picture of a battle.
a civil war that exists only within my mind.
it is like the north vs the south.
it is myself vs my thoughts.
it is the blade vs my wrist.
this battle, my art, is a work in progress,
it is long from done.
but everyday, I wake up, that same artist, ready to fight another battle.