Frazzled

My eyes are half closed for I fear to see what worry and anxiety have made of me. All day I have been twisted out of shape, wincing at my disheveled appearance. Life has taken a toll with its interference. My mirrored face is a prism, a color spectrum, frazzled reflections of the paths I've traveled. It's no wonder I look completely unraveled and seem to be moving in opposite directions. I'm an abstract work of art, hastily brushed with my own hand when I'm feeling rushed. Blue when sadness tears my world in two, Cadmium yellow on days when I feel mellow. When anger tints darkness on my soul, my cheeks are flushed with shades of pink. It's been weeks since I've felt bold enough to paint with oils. Misfortune leaves me feeling like used tin foil or memories that should be buried in the soil. I have need to gather all of my frazzled thoughts and loosen them from the ropes that tether me. Too many worries have wrinkled my facial parts and from spying eyes that I despise, I need to be free.