Damp, heavy sheets
twisted around my legs,
like cold night sweats,
but there was no nightmare.
It was just the rain,
that had beat against the walls and roof and windows all week long
finally getting in.
That night,
that night of no nightmares,
I met another patient.
His eye looked at me,
then through me.
And through the walls
and through the rain
through the very fabric of reality itself.
They alighted on another world.

Maybe it was a better world,
with gentle rain that never broke through walls.
And bright greens and oranges.
A world where fairies serve ambrosia
with diamond studded wings.
And centaurs carry crystal cups
filled from the fountain of youth.

I'm jealous of his Neverland.
Jealous that he can escape
while I wake up with drenched sheets
once more clinging to my legs.