hypervigilance

the unknown of

i, who have never known meadows

i, who have never known sunshine

i, who have never known breath outside the minotaur’s reach

this maze of corners so dark

some days i dont see him

but i hear the echoes

the clump and whump of hooves;

some days he rears his head

sharp horns and breath vaporous

eyes red with anger

and i run blind—

a bell ringing like a scream

it’s inside of what im made of

gore and guts

blood and bones—

my head will burst

i will return to the dirt under my fingernails—

then the hooves are echoes again

the bull loses interest

and the man is content with my fear