So It's You And A

As Coal Pressured Into Pearls By Our Weighty Existence. Beauty That Arose Out Of Pain.

Haymitch In My Head Full-time. Horrifying

Charred Bits Of Black Silk Swirl Into The Air, And Pearls Clatter To The Stage… I’m In A Dress Of The Exact Design Of My Wedding Dress, Only It’s The Color Of Coal And Made Of Tiny Feathers. Wonderingly, I Lift My Long, Flowing Sleeves Into The Air, And That’s When I See Myself On The Television Screen. Clothed In Black Except For The White Patches On My Sleeves. Or Should I Say My Wings. Because Cinna Had Turned Me Into A Mockingjay.

If My Holding Out Those Berries Was An Act Of Temporary Insanity, Then Those People Will Embrace Insanity Too.

Isn't It Strange That I Know You'd Risk Your Life To Save Mine, But I Don't Even Know What Your Favorite Color Is?