I know that I,
A young maid,
Should not have these thoughts,
But I wish to go back towards my youth,
To flee from this life and pain
To claim myself dohrnii
Retreat from the danger
And become a babe again.
I desperately desire—
With the force of the crashing waves—
To live this youth again
As myself
To live through
Childhood once more,
And to be seen as my own self—
My mother’s fair daughter,
Not my father’s effeminate son.
To not stare at the mirror,
Sinking under every fold,
With chains of misery shackled to me.
I want to live youth again,
To dance in the shallows of my
Rose-tinted childhood
With a delicate and
Medusal belled skirt and
A fine and gastric red blouse
And to not be swept so immediately
Into the
Depths of maturation.