minotaurs and walls

falling through down onto rough edge
built just for you, your particular body
finding comfort in the disease
the odd pains reminding you of life
physical adjustments pull attention
far away from the inner labyrinths
where minotaurs wait with riddles
unsolve, unsolved, unsolving
answers lie in wait behind thick walls
which only require the right
question, smell, sight, experience
to tumble and release the
horrors and hope locked away and forgotten
the day you needed to think about
something else

I think I should maybe try to write something less "I"-centric. It's difficult, but the challenge would be good.