My Room Poem by Jessie Jett

I sit here in this chair.
This chair I sit,
and I brush my hair.

Look at my reflection
of what I see.
Looking in the mirror,
and I see me.

I see me,
it's not something I want to be.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Nothing too much I guess.

I have brown eyes.
I have brown hair.
I'm alone in my room,
sitting in my chair.

I look at my brusies,
that are here on my neck.
It hurts to touch my hips...
I don't even have to check.

All I do, is sit in my room.
I don't do anything to him.
Then he comes in,
I look at his hand.

In his hand, there lies a belt.
I know it's comming,
I just turn around.
Then he slams and beats me to the ground.

I did not do anything.
I just sat here, in the chair.
I just sat here and brushed my hair.

I don't know why,
but this happens everynight.
When it happens,
I just close my eyes real tight.

I'm just a girl
and I want to hide.
But I don't.
I always look like I have pride.

To show,
he's not the better one.
But, because of him,
I have no fun.

And because of him,
I have no friends.
Sometimes,
I just want my life to end.

I try to hold on,
to what I have left.
Which isn't much,
but I try my best.