Isn't it true that as a kid
You have nightmares
Of boogeymen and monsters

You run scared to your parents' room
Desperate for their warmth
And that reassurance of reality they offer?

We learn as children
That the substance of our worst nightmares
Can never touch us when we wake

That the threat in the closet is just a shadow
The scratching on your window,
Nothing more than a tree.

We are comforted in knowing that when we wake we can say,
"It was all just a dream."
We cannot be reached in consciousness.

Maybe that's why it was so ******* unreal,
So horrifyingly against all my soothing logic,
When I opened your apartment door that day

Because I saw the monster from my panic-filled nights,
standing, wearing your pants, right in front of me,
And no amount of pinching could make her disappear.

Now, whenever I wake in a cold sweat,
Heart chilled,
Mind spinning,
I will never again feel sweet relief with the words,
"It was only a dream,"

Because it's never just a dream
When you're living in a nightmare.