You're Not Going To Die. I Forbid

My Mockingjay Pin Now Lives With Cinna's Outfit, But There's The Gold Locket And The Silver Parachute With The Spile And Peeta's Pearl. I Knot The Pearl Into The Corner Of The Parachute, Bury It Deep In The Recesses Of The Bag, As If It's Peeta's Life And No One Can Take It Away As Long As I Guard It.

And There I Am, Blushing And Confused, Made Beautiful By Cinna’s Hands, Desirable By Peeta’s Confession, Tragic By Circumstance, And By All Accounts, Unforgettable.

Just The Sound Of His Voice Twists My Stomach Into A Knot Of Unpleasant Emotions Like Guilt, Sadness And Fear. And Longing. I Might As Well Admit There’s Some Of That Too.

You're Alive," I Whisper, Pressing My Palms Against My Cheeks, Feeling The Smile That's So Wide It Must Look Like A Grimace. Peeta's Alive.

Just Because People Starve In A Book, Doesn't Mean That We Will Starve In The Future.