The next persona poem is from the diary of Anne Frank,
and she was at that time between being a young woman,
or being a young girl and then turning into a young woman,
having no one to talk to, so she invented a friend,
and this friend was her diary, Kitty.
And some of the lines here I've actually
stolen directly and put it right in with the poem
because they're so wonderfully said.
Her prose almost reads like poetry.
If I had a sister, I would whisper my sweet secret.
I can carry life.
One night I slept with a girlfriend.
I told her blushing was like love disclosing what cannot be
hidden.
In this alcove, writing in my diary,
Kitty, I envy those girls who have their own room
and dream of dances and gowns.
I am pushed from corner to corner.
Already in my longing, I've given myself too quickly.
My heart twists around itself, around a girl
who hides her thoughts in an attic, who could soon open up
like a tulip on the canal.