Chemically Unbalanced

How many colors are there in the world?

Too many to count too many to see; billions of combinations swirling around me like an oasis.

If I had to pick colors to describe my moods it would go as following.

When anger slips off of my tongue and through my hands straight onto the canvas; when I’m filled with fear and rage caressing through my fingers as if I was caressing her cheek.

The colors should be red and black. For the anxiety inside of me I would like purple and blue swirling it's way all through looking like an abstract painting.

Looking through me but looking at you as if you were the only one who could make an idea of what you want it to be or maybe who you want me to be.

There’s a faint amount of yellow that is for the joy faintly inside. This the final Brain cell of hope.

Holding on for all that it has as I try to squeeze it out; as if I’m begging for words of positivity from my broken father.

You mix it all together all of the colors inside of me it gets to be rainbow but a rainbow of destruction.

It is broken parts and missing pieces. It’s unsaid words and broken chords; it's screaming but no words come out as the tears run down your face straight to your heart.

This is chemically unbalanced.