Fret

the wind is blowing a gale this morning, and the shrubbery gnaws at the weatherboard with ghost-like intrusions. i awoke with the stars still shining through my window, feeling as though i were swept away to a far off tundra where snow drifts and ice clouds cruise the emptiness. and I shook beneath my covers and thought of my friend who said we are immersed in the densest time of year right now: challenges and hardship are to be expected. and that may be so. all i know for sure are these shakes and twitches going on in me. the short shallow breaths. the feeling of being squeezed too tight by something i can't see. i think to take myself to the gp but admonish myself again. it looks like rain coming, too. i am sliding with no one around. when i was young my brothers caught a rabbit in a trap. it was black. jet black they said. it was the first time i had heard that phrase. it was a beautiful kitt, though soon died. apparently it fretted so hard that it's life went out. it was the first time i had heard of that, too.

i am troubled by my dreams these days. something's not right. yes ive been here before. and that's the scariest thing about it