there is a bittersweetness to being crowned with the title of eldest daughter. eldest granddaughter, eldest niece, eldest sibling. it is equally damming as it is a title worn with great pride. she was taught to hold her head high, to carry everyone's burdens. she has never needed much so you easily turn a blind eye to her. she floats to the back of your mind. you find yourself expecting her to be her usual self. self sufficient. but at the end of each day please remember, I beg you, that she is just a scared little girl. a fragile child trying her best, because it is when she has achieved that she feels her most useful. I beg you to never forget that little girl shaking within her. offer her a hug. though she will refuse, I promise it is her heart's desire.

i think i walk a fine line between curiosity and escapism. i feel it rumbling, jostling with one another in the deep crevices of my mind. am i only entranced by the stories unfolding on these pages, because they offer me refuge from this unpredictable reality?

i tease my toes with the buds of flowers, ever inviting as they lull me in. i brush it off, turn as to leave. but the sweet lilacs whisper through the wind, tickling my ear and before i know it i’ve turned back. i stick the tips of my toes into the soil and feel the earth grounding me. “this is safe” i ration with myself. “i have control.” then the sweet daffodils hug my heels and before i know it i’m dancing in the garden. knowledge of the bees long forgotten, though their buzzing never ceases. i go to pick up a ripe bud and am snagged with a bee! its stinger wedges in the imprint of my thumb. it tries to negotiate escape, to no avail. and tears stream down my face from the insurmountable shock and lingering ache. i gather myself and place my feet back into the grass, swearing never to return to these unkind gardens. trudging along the path, leaving the trap behind. and just when i round the corner, i hear the sweet songs of the roses, enchanting me once more.

like glass with too much pressure, my careful facade cracks due to wear beyond measure. “save her,” whispers the wind on the deaf ears of the dead sea…