24 hour Road Trip

The buzz of the needle – penetrating my entire body
After having spent the past six hours waiting for my turn
I was anxious, and ready, oh so ready
As his hand moved over my collar bone, I shut my eyes
Looking out made it worse
Seeing only blackness, the edge was real, but I could breath
Pain like perfect agony seared across my shoulder
I made a face, and he said nothing
I tried to breath, but no air reached my brain
Briefly, he moved away, I inhaled deeply, air filled my belly
As the point pierced my skin again, I exhaled, trying to make it last
“This is real,” I repeated over and over in my head, “This is real.”
There was no checking out, no zoning, no spacing, no leaving my body.
I was called to attention every moment the tiny silver needle ripped through my skin
Paralyzed I could not utter a sound
Feeling like a child, I tried to hold my ground
Each grimace, I consciously relaxed my jaw
Every flinch I tried to make a mental dance
But the pain was present – ever present
I watched the others move about the shop
Listened to their stories,
Their jokes,
Their songs
Their friendly banter
But my mind was focused only on the sting of tearing flesh
From across the room, he caught my eye, and made a face –
I laughed,
I could not help myself
I was being silly,
I was making a big deal out of on hour and a half in the chair
Relax, girl, it will all be over soon
And it was
Now, on my right shoulder I have a sunflower ¬–
A flower for my love of travel, for beauty, for all the women who mean so much to me
And on my left shoulder, closest to my heart, I have a sunflower –
A flower for my best friend who lives in France