Fear of the Inevitable

I awake in the night
a heavy object
pushing on my chest
I breathe, but barely
laboring to work the muscles
that allow my breath

I look around me and
in the shadows I see a dresser
a drawer is ajar
and the top is cluttered

In the corners of the room
old webs dangle in the
breeze coming from
well I'm not sure where
and I panic at the thought
of the spiders that made them
and where they might be