This body– my body is not an apology it’s a prayer Forgiveness wrapped in the filigrees end of my skin frayed at the ends battered

Reclaiming my inner badass at 50
This body– my body is not an apology it’s a prayer Forgiveness wrapped in the filigrees end of my skin frayed at the ends battered
Read more of Deveraux Frazier’s writing at Poetry of An Aspergian or D. Frazier Writes
Poet. World traveller. Moved from England to Cambodia. Might stay there. Not sure. You can read more of Saarah’s writing at eastwest_nomad
My body is not an apology. My body is not an apology; It is triumphant if anything at all. I haven’t been so loving to
Broken as it is I still won’t moisturize desolation that denies the existence of saturation to begin with. Instead, I will take with me all
this body cleverly constructed of blood and bone muscle and sinew has not always been my safe house others did their best to paint it’s
The body, this body, my body Is not an apology. It Is not an explanation A long Drawn-out Pause for consideration. It does not wait
Patricia Harris is a dreamer, crafter, gamer and digital artist who loves creativity in life. She is a devoted mom who can be found doing
“Get back on my pull-up bar!” the Drill Instructor yelled, his spit mixing with the sweat on my brow. “This recruit can’t, sir!” I shouted