Kitty, I fear that I am becoming a bundle
Of contradictions: A person split in two.
Imposed upon from without and within, I am
A clam, sealed but lacking precision, with
The ocean rushing in; my tender flesh
Is drowned. Inside, I fight against a voice
That screams mockeries of my mother, father,
Favored sister. My better half is silent.
I often touch my budding breasts, hoping
That I will grow into the statue, Venus.
But well I know that I may never live
To see the day my body blooms and thrives.
Oh! What I could be if none like me
Were left in this world!
Yours,
Anne