I Do Think You're Mad And I'll

I Can Hear President Snow's Voice In My Head. 'on The Seventy-fifth Anniversary, As A Reminder To The Rebels That Even The Strongest Among Them Cannot Overcome The Power Of The Capital, The Male And Female Tributes Will Be Reaped From Their Existing Pool Of Victors.

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.

Swathed In Silk, I Feel Like A Caterpillar In A Cocoon Awaiting Metamorphosis. I Always Supposed That To Be A Peaceful Condition. At First It Is. But As I Journey Into The Night, I Feel More And More Trapped, Suffocated By The Slippery Bindings, Unable To Emerge Until I Have Transformed Into Something Of Beauty. I Squirm, Trying To Shed My Ruined Body And Unlock The Secret To Growing Flawless Wings. Despite Enormous Effort, I Remain A Hideous Creature, Fired Into My Current Form By The Blast From The Bombs.

And Then He Gives Me A Smile That Just Seems So Genuinely Sweet With Just The Right Touch Of Shyness That Unexpected Warmth Rushes Through Me.

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