Mama? I’m (Not) Fine...

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.