I space out constantly in a daydream state, always keeping a straight face. I dont think about anything in particular. I just look at my surroundings, taking mental pictures for art projects.

Art...I enjoy getting my hands dirty as I shade with charchoal. Different shades of black and greys you can decide how dark or light you want it. I love the feel of it between my fingers and the feel of it scraping against the paper.

I once had a lady ask me why I dont try adding color to my sketches.

My view of this world in my eyes are black and white. I dont see color. No, I am not color blind. What I see is shading coming together as two lovers, making something beautiful. Color is an illusion in my eyes. My world is my black and white canvas.

Hello Dear Followers and Fellow writers.

Forgive me being gone for so long. Due to unfortunate events I havent been able to write for quite some time. Between leaving an abusive relationship and trying to rebuild my life with my little girl I havent had any time to work on some stories or poems.

That being said I will be posting new ones starting next week. I hope everyone is doing well. Happy writing

Sincerely,

Madame Amethyst

Dear Ex,

Six months of nothing of emotional and physical abuse. Six months of getting slapped for talking back. Six months of getting burned with cigarettes for hitting back.. I handled it quite well because of all the years of bullying I endured in school. I can take a hit. Punch me! Slap me! I will get up. I will keep fighting back. Yet..like an idiot I kept accepting your apologies. I thought you did actually loved me.. So like an idiot I stayed. Like an idiot I gave myself up to you. But when I saw you were just toying with me, I had decided to leave you. You didnt take no for an answer. You tied me up and raped me. Of course my body reacted the way you wanted it to but I cried because I hated it! I went home feeling disgusted. I nearly drank a full bottle of painkillers because I felt that I wasnt good enough. But I decided to keep living. Then I saw you with another girl in your car. I approached you and punched you. I was happy when I broke your nose! I was glad I threw your clothes and keys into the river! I was glad I walked away while security called the cops because you were walking naked in the parking lot. I went to the bathroom and I laughed as I stared at my cuts and my black bruises you left on my skin. I was happy that it was over. People told me that you broke up with me because I was psychotic. But hunni, we both know it wasnt me, it was you.

Sincerely,

Madame Amethyst

The one-nighter that really stands out was with this guy who turned out to be gay. It went from awkward to weird to "why am I here" real quick.

Awkward: I spent half an hour listening to him talk about an unrequited love interest with this guy (ironically who is my current husband...). Then switched to how he loves p*ssy. I just smiled awkwardly.

Weird: In order for him to be aroused, he had to watch a funny cartoon. He chose Futurama. He laughed during foreplay while staring at his laptop screen as he rubbed my sensitive spots. What really took the kick: Zoidberg's screeching and whooping.

Why am I here?: Finally went to his bedroom.  He couldn't get hard. I tried everything I could think of: handjob, rubbing against him, etc. "Hey I got an idea!" he says as he stands on the bed. I thought he wanted a blowjob. Instead I had him slapping his penis on my head....

Nap time!: He finally had gotten hard. He bent me over the bed. One thrust! Two thrusts! Thr- he pulls out and spills his essance onto my back. It took two minutes. After that he kissed me and went to take a nap. I got dressed and left to work without telling him. We never spoke again until I accidentally started dating his bestfriend.

Last year I had become increasingly sick with each passing day. Not one doctor could figure out the cause of this unknown illness.

Whenever I had a fever, my skin burned as if kissed by the sun. No one could touch me. Clothes were unbearable as it would rub against me like sandpaper on wood, making each movement pure agony. I would silently cry until I fell asleep.

My legs constantly gave out. Yes...they would lose feeling, become weak, and I would collapse. It felt as if my legs were made of cement: stiff and heavy. No matter how hard I tried, I didn't have the strength to stand.

Moments later I would be hit with searing pain as if my limbs were being pulled apart. I'd grind my teeth, for that was more bearable than the crushing weight that was placed on my legs.

My realization: my body was slowly breaking down.

One afternoon, my boyfriend at the time (now my fiance) and I went out for lunch. I was sick but I didn't want to stand him up. I put on my makeup to hide my pale face and blue lips. I wanted to look beautiful and alive. My body hurt so much that even putting on lipstick was a chore.

 She was always a sickly child. Constant hospital trips...choking down medications to "heal" her body. She smiled even if she was tired and paled faced. She refused to feel sad. She refused to give in to pain. She wanted to prove that she was a fighter. That she can overcome anything. 

 Doctors said things looked grim, but she had faith. She would pray everyday...every night to GOD to heal her. To take away her ailments. She prayed that she would live a long life. Her prayers were then answered. For unknown reasons she no longer needed her medications. She glowed as she thanked the Lord..her saviour for healing her fragile body.

 Years pass by she becomes ill again. Tranplants couldnt save her, for her body rejected them. She becamed over whelmed by a fever. Still she fought to get better.  

 She slowly went into a deep sleep... Her body was now under the care of a machine to feed her and to help her breathe.. She kept fighting until she could no longer fight. A light surrounds her as an angel takes her hand. Her prayers had been answered once again. No pain. No fear. No sickness. Just peace, love, and warmth. God has taken her home. She is an eternal fighter. She is a warrior. She fought bravely and still won in the end.

In dedication to my sister. May she rest in peace.

Mama. The other half of me.

My common sense,

The one who sees

When I, Amethyst, is dense.

Conversations between she and I

Is a sign I am depressed.

She knows and sighs

As I choke downs emotions unexpressed.

Mama: Amethyst... Why hide behind a painful mask?

Amethyst: So no one hears my sorrowful cries.

Mama: But you're going to make yourself sick with this dreadful task...

Amethyst: Mama.. A part of me each day breaks and dies.

Mama holds me as she sees the happiness break,

As I emotionlessly stare into the deep dark abyss.

Seeing the scars that took years to make

From the darkness destroying the joy I miss.

So Mama just to be clear

YES I,M (not) FINE.

Watch me smile, while my makeup smear.

All because my depression is not your burden but mine.

Writing is my medicine. A dose of what you may call a 'happy pill.' It is also my alternate of a blade. Instead of cutting into my skin, I permanently engrave my feelings into what used to be trees. Yes... My writing can be dark, but that is the paper 'absorbing' my darkness. It opens new doors to a new world where I can be free.

 (video confession)

Nobody...nobody understands what its like the have three versions of themselves trying to take over one body. United, we are just me. But divided, we have names.

Mama- my common sense, eyes pure amber

Little One- the child within, eyes emerald green

And

Loner- alone and suicidal, eyes a dark walnut brown.

Its been three years since we lived here, in a small white room, with just a cot to lay on. Trapped behind a metal door. Across the room, a small window with rusted bars. Oh yes.. This was living. The only thing to keep us occupied is this stupid little journal.. Did it help...Yes, because it was our only friend who understood what ia being said, without calling us Mad

Every week, I am taken to "therapy." *chuckles* Being strapped down on a gurney, stickers being placed on my temples. I would be electrocuted, slightly, until I would agree that we dont exist. That 'we' is only me. We would cry out in pain, until we agreed, that I am only one person. From there they would unstrap me and drag my semi-paralyzed body back to my "dorm" dumped dead in the center, until we were able to move again..

Because of this, we snapped. Thats where it got interesting

Last week my therapy became more intense. What happened? Loner had gotten me into trouble. Loner couldn't stand being trapped anymore. We managed to get a scapel from one of the doctors. Oh how I remembered the horrified look on the three nurses faces as they entered my room. I had just finished slicing my arms, with multiple cuts from the icy blade. 

As one of the nurses approached, Loner grabbed the poor young lady by her throat and slammed her to the ground. Pressing her bloody arms into the blonde, green eyed, slimmed figured, woman's mouth, forcing her to taste the copper flavored essense that was Loner's blood. We laughed while Mama cried out for us to stop. The other two nurses who were strong figured men stepped in, pulling us away from the screeching woman screaming bloody murder. Poor woman ran out, but never came back to see us. *laughs malicously* We were just having fun.. Sadly, the next thing we remember was the room going black.

When we came to, we sat in a small padded room, my arms strapped against my body. We looked up to notice a small camera in the corner of the room. We smirked, as our eyes switched colors. They observed me, but never really approached me. They felt that We were untreatable. But our sanity...my sanity came "back" while being in solitary...

We are all broken.

First began with harsh words spoken.

Divided by race, color and nationality.

Hatred is now our new reality

War, humanity being ended by fire.

Power! That is what all desire!

The nation, "Our" country blinded by bigotry.

Our nation, falling apart from savagery.

A place that was meant for opportunity

A united nation, no longer filled with equality.