Him🌚

Him 🫠

He was the real definition of heaven.

Somehow, he loved the darkness,

and the grim followed him like a shadow.

But I called him heaven,

because the little things he did

made him feel like it.

Because he reminded me

that I didn't have to do too much

to be chosen.

He liked everything I hated

about myself.

The parts I tried to hide,

the flaws I thought made me difficult

to love

somehow, he saw them

and never made me feel ashamed.

He was literally heaven to me.

I smiled a little too hard

whenever his message popped up.

Sometimes, I'd stare at his name

for a few seconds longer

before replying,

just because seeing it

made something warm bloom inside me.

There was nothing extraordinary

about the way he said my name,

but somehow, it sounded different

coming from him.

Maybe that's what heaven was

not perfection,

not endless happiness,

but a person who made you feel

like you could finally breathe.

And maybe I called him heaven

because, for a little while,

being seen by him

felt like being exactly

where I was meant to be.

And that's because it's him.

Yes,

Because it's him.