Contents Under Pressure

It's Halloween week. I leave the house in the dark. I return home in the dark. The sky is gloomy and the rain won't stop. Why now?
 my perception is selective.  
I can't stop fidgeting. 

Tonight, for the first time in my life, I called myself an artist.
I. am. in. such. a. dark. place.
// heavy heart and a head full of pesticide.
And here I am.
Able to call myself a fucking artist. 
I just needed to suffer for it.