The Curses of Rhythm

The curses of rhythm
The wages of sin

Admittedly there is a certain relief
in the simple act of (just) giving up
in finally lifting the self-imposed punishment
Best suited for only the King of Ephyra

But quitters never win
Winners never quit

is but some bullshit motivational sing-song
thrown to the groveling feet of the too-weary
of the ill-prepared and of those not yet
self aware enough to know when enough is enough

There is relief
But never satisfaction

So much energy so many resources so much…
Lost and never recovered
Forever like shooting stars or snowflakes

The curses of rhythm
The wages of sin

A shocking cold drenching of ice water
thrown onto sleeping faces when we realize that
We are just really ever nothing all along
Because this time we used a slide rule
and an abacus and all ten of our fingers and
the analyzed data concludes:

“Haha lol you crazy little fuck when will u evr learn?”

When it hurts so much that it ceases to pain you even
when you poke at wounds over and over
and over and over again

Nothing left but this low-frequency hum
somewhere so deep down inside you
keep turning around because you honestly cannot tell
where it originates

But the mirror claims it is you
It is always just you
You finally see the reflection clearly
That you were never in actuality
Just another
Ant in an anonymous colony somewhere that was never
Important or ever even that interesting

The curses of rhythm
The wages of sin

Quitting is the ultimate freedom
Simultaneously and suddenly
I am nobody
And I am a