You Can Eat Me

I won’t make this trip
I’m already dead
You can eat me
If you need to
But I won’t taste right
As you chew through
All the good times
That we outgrew
You feel the salt wind
Hit your heavy, wet hair
That the heat wave
Couldn’t dry out
Now you’re crying
With a stiff mouth
That still tastes like
Your last bite
Of my left leg
That’s now sheet white
As the flies come
In the dead of night
You start to venture
Through the ever thick trees
Feet are tired
Eyes are weary
You find a stray fox
In a plane wreck
With a split lip
And a cracked neck
There’s a left shoe
At the fox’s feet
Must’ve flown here
'Cross the big sea