If I Get Home, I'll Be So

The Bird, The Pin, The Song, The Berries, The Watch, The Cracker, The Dress That Burst Into Flames. I Am The Mockingjay. The One That Survived Despite The Capitol's Plans. The Symbol Of The Rebellion.

I Take His Hand, Holding On Tightly, Preparing For The Cameras, And Dreading The Moment When I Will Finally Have To Let Go.

Then, In My Most Careful Handwriting, Come All The Details It Would Be A Crime To Forget. Lady Licking Prim's Cheek. My Father's Laugh. Peeta's Father With The Cookies. The Colour Of Finnick's Eyes. What Cinna Could Do With A Length Of Silk. Boggs Reprogramming The Holo. Rue Poised On Her Toes, Arms Slightly Extended, Like A Bird About To Take Flight. On And On. We Seal The Pages With Salt Water And Promises To Live Well To Make Their Death Count.

I Start To Crack At Four Hundred To One.

The Air's Warm With Hopeful Hints Of Spring In It. Spring Would Be A Good Time For An Uprising, I Think. Everyone Feels Less Vulnerable Once Winter Passes.