Maybe It's That We Are

In Our World, I Rank Music Somewhere Between Hair Ribbons And Rainbows In Terms Of Usefulness.

I Don't Want To Cry. Everyone Will Make Note Of My Tears And I'll Be Marked As An Easy Target. A Weakling. I Will Give No One That Satisfaction.

You're Not Afraid I'll Kill You Tonight?" "like I Couldn't Take You.

Everything Is Happening Too Fast For Me To Process It.

Ally." Peeta Says The Words Slowly, Tasting It. "friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I'll Add It To The List Of Words I Use To Try To Figure You Out. The Problem Is, I Can't Tell What's Real Anymore, And What's Made Up.