rooster, words

dreams assaulted me last night

an old farm house in the middle of nowhere

a rooster crows in the dead of the night

slowly amble out the back door to find blood sparyed across the barn door

armed with a stick, open the door slowly to prevent the hinge from squeaking

traitorous door lets out a piercing scream

feel an impact, look down to see four bloody tines of a pitchfork sticking out of my chest

woke with a start and looked down

a dream

move about for what feels like eternity

find that perfect spot, clutching a pillow like a lover

drift away

a rooster crows in the dead of the night

sore knees battle the stairs

out the back door

barn door bloodied

deja vu

ignore the door, shine a light through the window

nothing’s there

a lack of a stick makes me jump and spin, two separate moves not aeril acrobatics

hear a sound of the air being cut

last look is tumbling before my head settles against a stone and my body falls to the ground five feet away

awake and lying in bed

no more farms, no more farms

staring at the ceiling, my beloved pillow cast away

even in my sleep i am destined to remain comfort free

hear a noise from the bedroom

probably the neighbors upstairs stomping

make to get up from the couch

a rooster crows

the cracked open blinds show the dead of night

just a dream i whisper

down the hallway

light from beneath the bedroom door


back to the couch

twice in one night is enough for me


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