And Squares.

It takes one twist, of the wrist, for I flip the script.
Hit the tip, sit and sit with relentless, restlessness.
Amounts of worry that exist in infinite.
Gallons and gallons of liters pour through my pores.
Sweat soaks my sheets, but dreams,
don't sweep my sleep.  My heart beats and beats.
I think and think til I reach my peak.
Constant constipation, hand to knees.
Hoverin over the urinal, dry hurlin, hurtin towards perfect.
If my existence is worthless...
If my life really means nothing...
Then my presence is precious, and
my plight already holds everything.
Then, what am I searching for?
What statement may I create?
That might make the world feel more profound.
Dreams bleed, recede, and reappear as tears.
Pillars in mirrors, broken and shattered.
The echoes and echoes of laughter and laughter.
((KNOCK!!KNOCK!!))((KNOCK!!KNOCK!!))
          "Jimi..."          ,          "Jimi..."
             "...is something the matter?"
I quick gather an answer,
then flashback fast, right back to the past...