I'm More Than Just A Piece In

Something Small And Quiet, Like A Match Being Struck, Lights Up The Gloom Inside Of Me.

They More Than Do Their Work, They Take Pride In It. Like Cinna.

Peeta Looks Me Right In The Eye And Gives My Hand What I Think Is Meant To Be A Reassuring Squeeze. Maybe It's Just A Nervous Spasm.

You're A Painter. You're A Baker. You Like To Sleep With The Windows Open. You Never Take Sugar In Your Tea. And You Always Double-knot Your Shoelaces.

I Merely Feel Emptyness. A Hollow Of Dead Brush Where Flowers Use To Bloom.