As all my peers soar skyward,
kissing the clouds in blind bliss,
I unearth myself from the delta
caked in the sour aftertaste of an existence attempted.

"How do you enjoy the winds up here?"
They ask out of ignorance, not even looking for they believe me to be right behind them.

Well, try looking at the stumbling speck at the ground, *****.
You've left me behind.

I know it's not their fault.
My burden to them is my own doing.
But why would I ever admit that?

I'd rather be rageful.