(Katniss)

     My eyes do not quickly meet with yours. I'm not sure what it is,but it keeps me closed. I don't smile easily, on days like this. I don't mean to look down on everyone, but I do; maybe just to feel better. I'm angry. As soon as I'm alone, I feel it in my chest, this energy that makes me want to yell. I want to hit the wall so my hands bleed. I played to a song I always listened to "back then," when I was dead. "I don't feel it anymore." he sings. But now I feel it. I'm reminded of lying on the ground, fighting so hard to breathe, shutting down the anger but wanting so badly to cry. Did I really cut myself to that song? The song is beautiful and I connect with it so well. But those memories are terrible. Some parts of my story I want to erase. He says I'm safe. I won't go back; I can't. It's impossible. Why is it that I still want to drink? I want your presence, and I look for it in so many awful places. So today, here is me. Black jeans, brown boots, sailor shirt. Please meet me in the scribbled writing, as I sip my coffee, meet me as I feel both strong and hurt. I think about Katniss. I like her a lot and I think she knows the feeling. I feel like I belong to no one.