How do I draw the color of frustration?

What words do I use to describe the way an Indigo sky touches my heart, or how a green and purple firework explodes down to my core?

How do I draw the color of fear, the hues of misunderstanding, the shades of happiness?

Color and words. Two things my life is bound by. And yet each, by themselves, lacks the ability to fully convey my meaning--to convey me.

I would, if I could, write the words on colorful paper.

I would paint my indecision on a palette of gray with raw orange-red letters of anger, painful to look at, damaging to feel.

There would be unknown shapes in fearful purple. . .or would it be yellow, a little color that urges the eye to only dwell on it?

My joy would be painted in sparkling white, with words of every color of the rainbow--bright, vibrant, living.

I would paint my sorrow in shades of green with bleeding crimson letters.

My belief would start black, then travel through all the shades of gray, and then would become white--all color.

My comfort would be lilac purple, and bread brown, and pizza sauce red, and prom dress turquoise.

Love would come in flesh tones with blue/gray/green/brown eyes and brown/blond/gray/black hair.

Desire would sometimes come in a sickly green. Or sometimes in flesh tones. Or sometimes in large bold letters, hiding behind mists of faded blue and purple.

Children's laughter would wiggle green on the page, like aspen leaves in the wind.

Impatience would be flat, dull, uninspiring. Peace would be soft, light, lifting.

Pain would have no color--deep searing blackness--momentary flashes of blinding white.

The colors would run across the canvas--fleeting. The symphony is every changing. You, the viewer, would see all. . .or none. The question is:

Would you see me?