You Call That A Kiss?

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.

Flight Is Essential, But I Can't Let My Fear Show.

Yes, Victors Are Our Strongest. They're The Ones Who Survived The Arena And Slipped The Noose Of Poverty That Strangles The Rest Of Us. They, Or Should I Say We, Are The Very Embodiment Of Hope Where There Is No Hope. And Now Twenty-three Of Us Will Be Killed To Show How Even That Hope Was An Illusion.

Then, In My Most Careful Handwriting, Come All The Details It Would Be A Crime To Forget. Lady Licking Prim's Cheek. My Father's Laugh. Peeta's Father With The Cookies. The Colour Of Finnick's Eyes. What Cinna Could Do With A Length Of Silk. Boggs Reprogramming The Holo. Rue Poised On Her Toes, Arms Slightly Extended, Like A Bird About To Take Flight. On And On. We Seal The Pages With Salt Water And Promises To Live Well To Make Their Death Count.

Maybe It's That We Are All So Starved For Something Good To Happen That We Want To Be A Part Of It.