4 lines to rule them all

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Heres a visual representation of what your life looks like if you live above the statistical benchmark to the age of 80. Each square here represents one week at an average of 53 weeks per year To some this might seem morbid, but I find it fascinating, humbling. You see a box I see milestones; birth of a child. The passing of a loved one. Graduation. The first paycheck. Marriage. Happiness and sadness and everything in between all rolled into 4 lines connected together. I like to fill in each week as it passes, it serves the following purpose - acts as a reminder on how far I have to go, so I contemplate and reflect on mistakes to learn from them - helps in keeping my self aligned to my values and stick to my smaller seemingly mundane habits that will only benefit me in the long run (like staying active/ keeping relationships) - keeps me grounded on how much I do not know - a constant reminder on not to take small things too seriously as it will all eventually come to an end - lastl...
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BXS : A spoken word


     BXS 


    My legacy dries as I put pen to paper 

    Yet, the west of me cries

    Its June 18' and I'm stuck

    Rust colored box with the walls closing in 


    A crux, to my existence 

    Blank shapes seeping darker than my melanin 


    The bell tolls - earsplitting

    Shattering and dragging away the unwilling silence      

    Now like its creatine that Ive injected, resurrected - pristine 

    I stand 

    A messiah 


    As the distance becomes smaller I'm forced to acknowledge my company 

    Once again

    Face to face in this gradually confining space, there

    He stands - 

    My biggest enemy

    The man in the mirror 


    Towering and unyielding

    Uncharacteristically forbearing

    

    Draped in velvet arrogance donning a helm of pride 

    Abhorring - menacingly imploring 

    My surrender 


    As the walls inch closer still

    time waits for no man

    there shall be space for just one 

    

    Alas, today is atonement 

    The second coming, and the mirage is undone 

    

    He is shattered and stained 

    In as much pain  

    As I had hoped 

    

    It must be now, it must be here 

    I reach out and wrench the most jagged edge 

    A crimson welcome awaits as my neck tingles 

    One swift motion and silver slides on skin 

    

    Finally?

    As land expands

    Sand beneath my feet

    There I stand - 

    The man in the mirror 

    

    Pen in one hand and sword in the other 

    My legacy dries as I put this pen to paper 





   -  Muneeb Naeem 




 


        

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