Just Last Year I Wanted To Kill

I Press My Ear Against His Chest, To The Spot Where I Always Rest My Head, Where I Know I Will Hear The Strong And Steady Beat Of His Heart. Instead, I Find Silence.

Doors Are For Those Who Lack Enemies.

The Morphlings From District 6 Are In The Camouflage Station, Painting Each Other's Faces With Bright Pink Swirls.

Peeta Crouches Down On The Other Side Of Her And Strokes Her Hair. When He Begins To Speak In A Soft Voice, It Seems Almost Nonsensical, But The Words Aren’t For Me. “with My Paint Box At Home, I Can Make Every Color Imaginable. Pink. As Pale As A Baby’s Skin. Or As Deep As Rhubarb. Green Like Spring Grass. Blue That Shimmers Like Ice On Water.

Kind People Have A Way Of Working Their Way Inside Me And Rooting There.