“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.