It's mid-October and I can't see the trees

And it's not just because I can't go to the South

Some days I wake up feeling like a live wire in that I’ll hiss at anyone who talks to me when all I really need to do is cry. Everything scratches at the little energy I’m conserving. Each time my dad coughs to clear his throat, each time my nephew’s baby monitor beeps, each time a door knob sticks and is wrestled open. Grating. It all grates on my nerv…