I Reach Out To Touch

I Raise My Left Arm And Twist My Neck Down To Rip Off The Pill On My Sleeve. Instead My Teeth Sink Into Flesh. I Yank My Head Back In Confusion To Find Myself Looking Into Peeta’s Eyes, Only Now They Hold My Gaze. Blood Runs From The Teeth Marks On The Hand He Clamped Over My Nightlock. “let Me Go!” I Snarl At Him, Trying To Wrest My Arm From His Grasp. “i Can’t,” He Says.

If You Hit Bottom, There's A Whole Lot Of People Here To Help You Up

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

If You Had Hope, Maybe You Could Find A Way To Make Things Change,. Because If You Thought About It, There Were So Many Reasons To Try.

I Guess This Is A Bad Time To Mention I Hung A Dummy And Painted Seneca Crane's Name On It.