There was once a family of slugs
That lived in a cabbage patch town
They went out everynite to eat
Found a cabbage and began to munch down

All through the night they could reduce
A cabbage to a stalk in the ground
All night they would munch and munch
But you would never hear then , nary a sound

But Mrs. H was becoming fed up
Her patch was the proudest around
With malace , blood red , she schemed
She vowed to eliminate all those clowns

She purchased the best poison they had
She tried every trick she had read
But the slugs just kept on coming
Every night, long after it was bed

Then a local wino for he said
Out of the garden he could take
These inconsiderate gluttonous
Stylommatophora Pulmonates

So he began by opening a beer
Placing some into a sphere
Putting them by each cabbage head , he said
"This will make those slugs disappear"

But by morning the cabbage was gone
Worse yet so was the beer and
If you looked even more closely tiny signs saying , "Next time make it import you here !"

Nothing can compare to this feeling of bliss.
Heck, I can't even begin to understand and make sense of this emotion.
You've caused my heart to beat in rhythms I thought I could never produce.
You lit up my heart and now even my soul explodes in different vibrant colors.
With you, everything just seems to fall into place and that, alone, scares me because I haven't been able to feel this for a long time.

They were right: even after every hurt people have caused, we should give love one more chance and always one more.
We are never prepared for heartbreak but that's what makes it all the more beautiful - knowing that each ache is a step closer to finding the right one.

It’s true, as it makes more sense now.
No wonder it didn't work out with anyone else because it was always meant to work with you.
Now I understand that I have been looking in all the wrong places because you were right before my eyes.
I was taught to believe that love should be extravagant, loud and should follow certain rules.
With all the years and heartbreaks that passed, I know that it doesn't have to be all of those.

Love is found in the little things. The quiet yet meaningful gestures.
It doesn’t boast as it is humble, and it clearly expects nothing in return.
Most importantly, Love should feel like home.

I am so glad I’m home.

I'm sitting at my bed
Thinking about you
And about how you didn't answer my calls
Or opened the door when i was knocking constantly
Or how your mom told me to stop to call


I'm just worried,
Really really worried
And i have this weird intuition
That something bad happened,
But i just really really hope
That i am wrong

And i hope
That right now
You're smiling
Or laughing
*Laughing will be good too