Fevered State

Just two more to go. Here comes the poem (remember; don't judge. I am making a HUGE sacrifice for you guys, here.)

Once in my fevered state I found,

A surfboard within my hand.

The sun had licked my skin for only five minutes,

But I felt that I had been cooked in it.

Fried like a steak, 

and dry as can be,

howled in pain,

and begged to be free.

Then memories began to flood back,

and the hospital room returned.

My face and skin felt hot and burned,

but I had been confined to my room.

Crazy fevers can control,

your sense of sanity.

Remember you can't go surfing,

when your IV won't set you free.