“Follow me,” she said.


"Follow me," she said.

"Let's escape this mess."

"Let's run so far away they'll never be able to find us."

Then I took her hand and we fled.

The escape was as smooth as the strongest of sedatives.

Momentarily, it was like I never even heard of dealing with too much stress.

She had lead me to a place where people embraced the anxious.

A place where positives were praised, but we all fixated on solving negatives.

When we let go of ourselves, we finally made sense.

We mapped out a plan, but knew we would digress.

It was just to escape, but then adventure become undeniably flirtatious.

And to think it all started with just one sentence, "Follow me," she said.

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