An Apology To My Body

An Apology To My Body | A Body Positivity Poem

An apology to my body

I’m sorry for endless empty 
stomachs filled with nothing 
but coffee grounds and ash. 
For burning your insides 
with bottles of liquor 
and broken glass.

I’m sorry for trying 
to claw out of you 
as if I were buried alive. 
Fingernails into your flesh 
trying to rid myself of you.

I’m sorry for carving train tracks
from razor blades and pooling 
blood beneath, hoping 
they would take me somewhere 
far from you. I’m sorry for 
the twelve inch gash on your thigh 
I splayed open like a butcher 
to a cows stomach.

I’m sorry for all the times 
I screamed at you and called 
you names like an abusive lover, 
white-knuckled in rage.

I’m sorry for all the people 
who roughed up your soft skin. 
They never deserved to know you 
the way I do.

I’m sorry for taking so long
in learning how to love you. 
I’m sorry I will forget 
how once again, always in
learning of how to love 
you stronger.

We began as one,
an archaic bond. 
You knew me before 
I knew my first breath.
Let me press yarrow 
to our wounds
and begin 
to mend.

To the One I'm Spending My Life With

My limbs are stretched in different directions and I change just as often as the weather. I am here and there. I am in between and outside of. I am all around. I am a reader, a blogger, a mother, a lover, a cleaner, a worker, a learner, a cook. My mind is always filled with ways to improve our lives. Make things simpler. Make things organized. Make things fun. Make things fulfilling. Make things inspiring. It is filled with writings I forget to jot down. It is filled with song lyrics. It is filled with ideas. It is filled with things I hope we do together. It is filled with things I hope to accomplish. It is filled with doubt. It is filled with the present moment. 

I know some days I get lost in my own thoughts and ideas. I lose the stillness. I know there is worry within me, meshing with a constant joy I feel and sometimes the worry overrides anything else. There is this quiet, calm stress I feel throughout my body. Ready to break through at the slightest annoyance. It becomes soft tidal waves that crashes over me and tries to drown us both. Gently, silently. Like an assassin that you never saw coming.

There is this constant pressure I put on both of us to improve. Sometimes I want it all done with the snap of my fingers and sometimes I get irritated when it doesn't happen the way I want. But I know we are both trying and I know we both have skeletons to defeat and I know we are both growing. We are growing separately and we are growing together. As parents, as lovers, as people. Occasionally, we fumble and scrap our knees but we dust the dirt off one another and we get back up again. Stronger and more resilient than before.

I want you to know that I am here for you. For us. For him. I am here, even when I want things done a certain way or feel defeated when things aren't perfect or when my mind is made of fog and dust and spiderwebs. I am here and I am listening to your needs. I am still finding a balance for myself outside of motherhood, inside of motherhood, for our son, for you and week after week, I feel one is being nurtured more than others and the scales tip yet again and I collapse.

When things are falling apart, when things are messy, when things are organized, when things are beautiful, when things are busy, when things are exactly the way we could hope, when things are full of laughter, when things are full of tears, when things happen unexpectedly, I know you'll be by my side, holding my hand, and together we'll overcome. Who we are as individuals will overlap and occasionally we'll bare our teeth at one another like wolves standing our ground, but we'll always be intertwining as one and cultivating this adventure of ours, united and in love. 

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Shayna Shattelroe

25 years old. Mama to Maddox. Word weaver. Lover of love. Coffee addict. Psychological science student. 

A woman of curious nature, my name is Shayna. I am wild & reserved. Humbled & proud. Quiet & clamorous. Strange & familiar. I live in the trees of New England typing away as lifestyle blogger. You can always find me with a coffee cup in one hand and a book in the other.

Blogging since 2005, I’ve had an innumerable amount of blogs on a vast number of platforms. Finally, I’ve found one to call home: The Lovely Cicada. This blog is a piece of myself I extend to you.