Featured in the 2016 Spring Issue of Rambunctious
Trust Amanda Henderson, '16 Trust is a sickly child a frail butterfly with one wing so when I watched you smother the insect in your hands I knew it would not survive and it hurt because it was already weak And in that moment the wildflowers that surrounded us turned into wildfires and when you tried to smother the flames you were left with only burns on your hands and on your chest But how frail are we to dangle others from an already fraying red string; a string of trust that's bound to break? Trust is the child whose hands are always cold and whose cough never quite goes away But what about the moments when trust's gentle caress is irresistible? She returns with open arms and rosy cheeks and she promises to never let go and that she'll do better this time In its many manifestations, trust is not one entity neither fraying string, nor sickly child, nor lovely enchantress, nor injured butterfly it doesn't really matter at this point because I just decided to walk away from the flames