Pandora's Box - Zali Bland

To the girls living inside Pandora’s Box:

I offer my deepest apologies.

They don't know what growing up as a secret does to a person.

I am sorry that you do.

To the girls living inside Pandora's Box: 

I understand.

I know that loneliness echoes inside you like bells in an empty church.

I know that the dark masks your vision like a blindfold, but I hope you are comfortable.

Some of you will be staying for quite some time.

To the girls living inside Pandora’s Box:

I have grown there too, right beside you, like a violet.

I opened my eyes to endless darkness and cool, clean air.

Voices above me, circling.

“Look at this little baby girl, isn't she beautiful, isn't she kind, she’ll break a lot of hearts one day.”

To the girls living inside Pandora’s Box:

The first heart I broke was my own.

My petals, bruised and battered by my own hand. 

When I cried it sounded like music.

To the girls living inside Pandora’s Box:

If you need, you can stay forever.

Most can't bear to stay long.

You live there, and it's fine.

To the girls living inside Pandora's Box:

Some days you’ll feel like a broken machine.

Others you’ll just feel empty.

To the girls living inside Pandora’s Box:

When it happens, it changes everything.

Some silly, naive girl comes along clutching a key shaped like a smile.

She opens the box, and the world shatters.

She looks at you and you go blind.

She is so beautiful. All you see is light.

To the girls living inside Pandora’s Box:

The box is comfortable enough, but the garden is vital.

In the garden, there are violets everywhere, and there is plenty of room to breathe.

To the girls living inside Pandora’s Box:

The voices will tell you that violets are a weed, a noxious mass of greed and destruction. 
I can only hope that you will know to not listen.

Pandora’s Box is not a home for anyone.

WORDS: ZALI BLAND
PHOTOGRAPHY: CHRIS HUBER