"Blemish"

There is something in the graceless movements of my mind that traps me close and tight to a thought, unceasing, unending, squeezing life from it one small escaped breath at a time. I am put to pasture with one nick to its’ garden hose feeding tube, blood pulsating through the blemish, still graceless and bleeding it dry until it never was. Aleathia Drehmer 2007 Published by The Outsider Writers 6/07