"Fear and loathing"

...and I'd let my soles sweep the floor
a thousand times before embracing
the pen,
the paper,
my insufficient soul.
...and I'd crawl inside myself
between drowsy sunrises and dirty
coffee mugs,
among deserted tears,
hallow feelings,
blurry memories.
...and I'd tease my skin
for being so thin
and bruise-worthy,
folding pages,
cracking noses,
collecting blood drops off the floor.
...and I'd let my demons
get the best of me,
my sanity,
my toes,
my featherless wings.
...and I'd curse the future
a thousand times more,
praying,
wishing,
wanting
for more...