My art is scary sometimes

I'm an artist, I say Canvas, filled Brush, stained My canvas an off white colour, filled with imperfections My brush a kind of shiny, silver, scratches and all I'm an artist, I say I  sometimes wonder if they understand my art Or my words along with it, carved deep into my canvas I sometimes wonder if other artists understand me, My reasons or my thoughts I sometimes wonder if my art is really art or if its just my mind working miles too fast Or even if its really pretty Sometimes, when I show my arms, people are scared by my art Sometimes, I shiver at the sight of my skin But sometimes, I can look at other people's skin and see, their art is scary too