The Problem Is, I Can’t Tell What’s

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

I Wish Peeta Were Here To Hold Me, Until I Remember I'm Not Supposed To Wish That Anymore. I Have Chosen Gale And The Rebellion, And A Future With Peeta Is The Capitol's Design, Not Mine.

The Air's Warm With Hopeful Hints Of Spring In It. Spring Would Be A Good Time For An Uprising, I Think. Everyone Feels Less Vulnerable Once Winter Passes.

I'm Sick Of People Lying To Me For My Own Good. Because Really It's Mostly For Their Own Good.

There's No District 12 To Escape From Now, No Peacekeepers To Trick, No Hungry Mouths To Feed. The Capitol Took Away All Of That, And I'm On The Verge Of Losing Gale As Well. The Glue Of Mutual Needs That Bonded Us So Tightly Together For All Those Years Is Melting Away.