Some Walks You Have To Take Alone.

The Raw Hunk Of Meat That Used To Be My Enemy Makes A Sound, And I Know Where The Mouth Is. And I Think The Word He's Trying To Say Is 'please'. Pity, Not Vengeance Sends My Arrow Flying Into His Skull.

By The End Of The Session, I Am No One At All. Haymitch Started Drinking Somewhere Around Witty, And A Nasty Edge Has Crept Into His Voice. "i Give Up, Sweetheart. Just Answer The Questions And Try Not To Let The Audience See How Openly You Despise Them.

My Lips Are Just Forming His Name When His Fingers Lock Around My Throat.

Warmblood Now A Bloodborne Death, Will Rob Your Body Of It's Breath Mark Your Skin And Seal Your Fate The Underland Becomes A Plate

A Verbal Promise Behind Closed Doors, Even A Statement Written On Paper-these Could Easily Evaporate . . . .