Starving artist

My fingers are so itching to create 
you'd think I'd be use to the itchy 
I wonder if anyone can relate?
My eyes are red and kinda twitchy.
Not because of drugs but 
I do need my next fix 
It's like breath to my lungs 
or scratching an itch. 

Am I addicted?
I guess you could say so - in a sense
But I'm afraid 
you won't know what to say 
and shrug it off as nonsense. 

I'm not addicted to a like or two 
not even too a thousand views 
I'm addicted to the fact 
that someone might not be like you
They might get it. 

And not have to ask questions to piece it together 
If it speaks to them- 
That's the exhilaration that I measure.
 
Even if I tried to stop-
Well here take my pen and good luck
I'll find a rock if I have too 
scratch into the cement 
and if no one got what it meant-
at least I do. 

It's just a faint light
just an almost sign
That maybe there's been a method to my madness this entire time  
I don't exactly know how to explain the feeling 

what I imagine is like a blazed high
There's a crazed maze that my mind is racing 
for a way out and always chasing 
there's no end but I get by
 
But here's the funny thing
staying lost 
is how I feel found 
I'm tired of being told 
the sea is where happiness is
But don't get too close cuz you'll drown 
I know I'm Crazy
my thought process is backwards  
I think my heads upside down

They say work hard than go for your dreams 
but as you're sleeping your dreams are weeping 
cuz they wait to be more
than just things you absent mindedly keep keeping
 
come in my kitchen and look in my cupboards 
all you'll see is paint 
don't worry tho im not another Van gogh
but the comparison is there- just faint.

Although I have no cheese or bread 
I feed off of what's inside my head
Please don't have a warrant out for my arrest 
I'm just what people would call a starving artist.

So enjoy your 9 to 5
it's not what i choose clearly  
You can say you like that life
we say a lot of things we don't mean  
but as for me 
I prefer to be 
painted and not clean