Two poems
by Baylee Talbot
Canvas
the buzzing whir of the needle
a pinch or a prick,
a pain i can’t describe.
i remember the first time
the spontaneity of the decision
the hour long wait,
a consequence of walking in.
i had wanted this for so long
yet anxiety was causing a knot in my stomach
and clammy hands
i remember how i felt after
the lingering sting
the tape pulling at the hair on my skin
i was in awe of the permanence
i could feel the addiction beginning
i was certainly in trouble
and oh god what was i going to tell my dad?
i remember the second
how absolutely insane that day was
running around to get money
emma’s car breaking down
and trying to rush back to the shop
i remember much more painful the needle was
against my ribs
tears had formed in my eyes
and i was so conscious of my breathing
worried that if my lungs moved
i would mess him up
at least this one would be easier to hide
I remember the next time
two, in one session
these only gave a slight bite
over the thin bones in my wrist
my addiction was only growing,
never slowing down
jesus what have i gotten myself into?
i remember five, six, and seven following slowly
months, even a year, in between
five didn’t hurt as much as the second
i knew the kind of pain to expect
with the needle on my ribs
and i thanked the universe
that this one would be easy to hide too
i remember six bruised while it healed
i was scared at first,
i had never had that happen before
but i was assured that it was normal
since my bicep is all muscle
and while on my way home
my dad joked about me having another secret design
only to be right
i remember the strangeness of seven
of having to wear a mask in the chair
my anxiety was spiking,
and my hands were clammy
even though i’d done this so many times before
that familiar buzz started in my ear
and the nerves left my body
this was familiar territory
i remember falling in love instantly
and not having to hide this one from my dad
because it was for him
and he loved it too
i relax into the vinyl chair and close my eyes
as he paints my skin
another time
Case
early morning drives to work, lit up by the buzz of caffeine
black friday hours and corporate breakfasts
playing jokes, not having much else to do
like cream cheese containers on top of a friend's old truck
hiding in the stock room, giggling as we try to scare jeannette
and sneaking quick chats between the shoe stacks
folding clothes and cleaning up
cashing out customers and clocking out
only to do it all again the next day
pancakes for breakfast, pizza for lunch, takeout for dinner
a mix of ice cream and popcorn for dessert, never able to finish both
and late night trips to my cousin's house in search of nicotine,
with you drunk in the passenger seat
sweet, strawberry daiquiris by the pool, blackbear bumping the speaker
icy, chlorinated water on a hot summer day, that is not at all refreshing
and the fiery burn of a first ever tequila shot
followed by a sour face and a lime to wash away the taste
walks with sam, getting shorter and shorter in his old age
with fake treats to lead him home
and bouts of laughter from entertaining ourselves
make-up done on the u-shaped kitchen counter
late night talks full of slurred words and heavy truths
and dumb boys, never able to put them in our past
lazy days in your living room, you on the weathered couch and me in the recliner,
with horror movie marathons and netflix binges,
and junk food galore
stewart's milkshakes,
one last drive,
and teary goodbyes.
by Baylee Talbot
Canvas
the buzzing whir of the needle
a pinch or a prick,
a pain i can’t describe.
i remember the first time
the spontaneity of the decision
the hour long wait,
a consequence of walking in.
i had wanted this for so long
yet anxiety was causing a knot in my stomach
and clammy hands
i remember how i felt after
the lingering sting
the tape pulling at the hair on my skin
i was in awe of the permanence
i could feel the addiction beginning
i was certainly in trouble
and oh god what was i going to tell my dad?
i remember the second
how absolutely insane that day was
running around to get money
emma’s car breaking down
and trying to rush back to the shop
i remember much more painful the needle was
against my ribs
tears had formed in my eyes
and i was so conscious of my breathing
worried that if my lungs moved
i would mess him up
at least this one would be easier to hide
I remember the next time
two, in one session
these only gave a slight bite
over the thin bones in my wrist
my addiction was only growing,
never slowing down
jesus what have i gotten myself into?
i remember five, six, and seven following slowly
months, even a year, in between
five didn’t hurt as much as the second
i knew the kind of pain to expect
with the needle on my ribs
and i thanked the universe
that this one would be easy to hide too
i remember six bruised while it healed
i was scared at first,
i had never had that happen before
but i was assured that it was normal
since my bicep is all muscle
and while on my way home
my dad joked about me having another secret design
only to be right
i remember the strangeness of seven
of having to wear a mask in the chair
my anxiety was spiking,
and my hands were clammy
even though i’d done this so many times before
that familiar buzz started in my ear
and the nerves left my body
this was familiar territory
i remember falling in love instantly
and not having to hide this one from my dad
because it was for him
and he loved it too
i relax into the vinyl chair and close my eyes
as he paints my skin
another time
Case
early morning drives to work, lit up by the buzz of caffeine
black friday hours and corporate breakfasts
playing jokes, not having much else to do
like cream cheese containers on top of a friend's old truck
hiding in the stock room, giggling as we try to scare jeannette
and sneaking quick chats between the shoe stacks
folding clothes and cleaning up
cashing out customers and clocking out
only to do it all again the next day
pancakes for breakfast, pizza for lunch, takeout for dinner
a mix of ice cream and popcorn for dessert, never able to finish both
and late night trips to my cousin's house in search of nicotine,
with you drunk in the passenger seat
sweet, strawberry daiquiris by the pool, blackbear bumping the speaker
icy, chlorinated water on a hot summer day, that is not at all refreshing
and the fiery burn of a first ever tequila shot
followed by a sour face and a lime to wash away the taste
walks with sam, getting shorter and shorter in his old age
with fake treats to lead him home
and bouts of laughter from entertaining ourselves
make-up done on the u-shaped kitchen counter
late night talks full of slurred words and heavy truths
and dumb boys, never able to put them in our past
lazy days in your living room, you on the weathered couch and me in the recliner,
with horror movie marathons and netflix binges,
and junk food galore
stewart's milkshakes,
one last drive,
and teary goodbyes.