The Last Seven Minutes
Poem of The Day
People say, when our heart finally gives up, the brain still has seven minutes left before everything completely shuts down. Seven minutes where our mind replays the whole tape of life like a short movie, trying to wrap up decades of age into a rushing flashback.
I know for sure, my last movie won't be filled with achievement trophies, not about the loud applause, and not about my youth regrets either. The screen inside my head that's slowly dimming will only show you, my love.
At the end of my remaining breath, you'll be the only main character taking over my whole seven minutes of memory.
In the first minute, I'll spend sixty pure seconds just to see the way your eyes squint when you laugh. In those seconds, even though my body might start losing its feeling, my soul will feel that same warm rush again just like the first time I realized that I'm falling in love with you.
The second and third minutes will completely belong to our simplest moments. The drive home without much talking, the leftover coffee in your glass, and the way your fingers subconsciously rub the back of my hand slowly. I want to remember those days that other people think are ordinary, because with you, even silence always feels like a beautiful poem that I never want to finish.
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Then, the fourth minute will replay the little storms we've been through together. Our arguments, the tears that fell, to the apologies whispered with a broken voice in the night's hug. I won't remember it as a wound, but rather as a trophy. A proof that we never gave up. We chose each other, over and over again.
Entering the fifth minute, my thinning mind will desperately recreate the feel of your hug. How your arms will always be the safest home I've ever found after a bad day. If my physical body really has to slowly get cold and stiff, let my soul wrap itself with the remaining warmth from the heartbeat behind your chest.
The sixth minute might be the hardest one, because that's when I realize that this movie roll is running out soon.
However, I know my heart will actually be filled with incredible gratitude. Out of billions of humans on this tiring earth, I'm the luckiest person because the universe let me crash into your destiny. You're the most beautiful surprise that makes all of my life's tiredness feel so worth it.
And finally, the seventh minute. The last sixty seconds before the screen completely turns pitch black with nothing left. I won't use it to look back anymore. I'll just look deeply at your face in the center of my memory, locking every detail of your smile into the core of my soul, as if I'm trying hard to smuggle you to bring you to whatever life comes after this.
Many say those seven minutes are too short and mean nothing when compared to a lifetime. But to me, if the whole seven minutes are filled with your presence, that's an eternity I'll welcome with an open heart. Because you're the sweetest epilogue that my mind desperately holds onto, right when everything else around me slowly turns to dust.
So, when my chest stops rising later and my world fades into darkness, I'm begging you don't cry for too long. Know that inside the quiet room of my brain that's getting ready to leave, you're the last masterpiece spinning beautifully without stopping.
At the end of my remaining breath, you're the most precious seven minutes walking me home peacefully.
