My mother always told me, “Whenever you go, there you are”; And as I desperately tried to flea countries, people, sadness, I alarmingly found they were never too far.
I would hop on a plane to get lost in Thai islands; For me take off was more than physical, It was mental, But where ever I want, despite the beauty, all I felt was miserable.
You get so much criticism for saying something like that; Being in the most beautiful places in the world, Watching awe struck people, Unable to shake the foreboding dread chasing you since a little girl.
So you board a new plane, And then another, Hoping this new place, Has happiness waiting for you to discover.
But my mum was right. Your demons cannot be fooled, For they live inside you, rendering your location irrelevant, And your appreciation for escapism slightly askew.