I could see the sky beneath my feet Or perhaps above my feet. Nonetheless, I was walking on the sky As the crows began to gather I pondered what would go first My eyes My skin My lips I hoped I would be a long awaited meal Perhaps I could still do some good Perhaps I could still save something Even if it were a crow. I wondered how badly it would hurt, When they are away at me. Dazed and foggy from days and days without food and water I hoped that it would ease the pain of being eaten alive Even if I knew I didn’t deserve it.