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.