Why the chickens c**k so early in the morning

I know my writing is weird. but I write what I feel. doesn't that matter?

There was this time. 

When I was normal. 

And chickens, they ruled the stables.

Back and forth they would run pecking their beaks against the warm sand.

They would moan. 

I heard them from my small house in the woods. 

I would often be intrigued by their painful crying. 

Rocking back and forth wishing for the sun to beat down rays of warm light. 

To bask in the glow of yesterdays shadows.

 But it was always dusk.

 Neither night nor day.

 Neither light nor dark. 

I would watch. 

I would hear. 

I did absolutely nothing.

I would lean against the rough wood, splinters breaking the skin on my back listening to the shuffle of the chickens. 

Shuffle, like an old man, they would constantly move.

 I would smell their s**t. All over, barricading the door to the wood shed I called my home. 

But they couldn’t get in. 

I was invisible. 

The grass offered no comfort to their bleeding claws.

 No silence offered comfort to my sore ears.

 My ears, they would throb. 

I would do nothing, absolutely nothing as I felt the pain encompass my ears, head, neck, torso, arms, and legs.

Like liquid nitrogen shooting through my veins  my body slowly became numb.

A power lifted me up, carried me outside my home, and dropped me in front of the now quiet birds.

Nothing.

I was nothing. 

But not to them. 

They pecked away at my clothing thread by thread, searching for something valuable. 

They found a diamond, cheese, hair, money, yet they were dissatisfied. 

Then they located what they have been searching for, what they had been moaning about for countless years. 

Blood. 

Human blood. 

They sipped. 

They pecked. 

They absorbed. 

My body became shriveled, lifeless, and obsolete as it was covered with their feces. 

The next day, one of the chickens had legs, human legs, like mine. Big upper thighs, small calf’s. 

The chicken smiled, as well as a chicken could. 

She softly whispered 

“We take what we want, 

smell what we will. 

Leave your soul outside. 

Come and get your fill”