on my résumé

small girl, small hands, small feet, small hips, young face, big chest, puffed out with deflated pride, big heart, broken heart, repair-o-heart, knocked down and run over and built back up again stronger than before like a castle wall, just waiting for the next army, the next big thing, next big king, to come charging down over the hill, to either break against her skin like a wave or break through her like a glass window, break her down like a castle made of sand instead, dissolve her into a pile of incoherent, bubbling mud where is her god, where are her gods now, who can guard that wall against the sound of your voice because jesus h. christ almighty,

what you do to me without even trying.

-Dana Winter