Poison. The Perfect Weapon For

Because Something Is Significantly Wrong With A Creature That Sacrifices Its Children’s Lives To Settle Its Differences.

I Curl Up, Make Myself Smaller, Try To Disappear Entirely. Wrapped In Silence, I Slide My Bracelet That Reads 'mentally Disoriented' Around And Around My Wrist.

How Did Rue End Up On That Stage With Nothing But The Wind Offering To Take Her Place?

Doors Are For Those Who Lack Enemies.

Sometimes, When I Clean A Kill, I Feed Buttercup The Entrails. He Has Stopped Hissing At Me. Entrails. No Hissing. This Is The Closest We Will Ever Come To Love.