Midnight?
Your hands clenched mine like a vise,
as I fed you, oh, so many lies.
A shell-shocked lunatic, your only reprieve.
As they pried apart our tethered veins,
my conscience recalled countless trains.
Mingled breaths, over-looming threats,
your skin, my sanctuary,
mistook you for an accessory.
The day the parachutes rained,
And her blonde curls burst into flames.
You finally came, a spray of yellow petals,
for her, you proclaimed.
Still, I must ask.
Why must your windows be drawn at night?
Is it to keep the harshest gales from consuming your might?
Or is it to keep my ghastly skin out of sight?
Why must you add sugar to your tea,
when you would drink it plain by the oak tree?
Why must your laces flap with your feet,
as your double knots ensnare my throat,
in utter conceit.
Why must your eyes beseech me with Sirocco winds,
when they used to flow like Orinoco’s wings.
I had the sun, and still, I reached for the stars.
A foolish girl, with foolish spars.
When you didn’t come running back,
I knew I’d fumbled with your life.
I’d let you go at midnight,
for that’s when the angels attacked.
So I must know,
To never see my pearl again.
I watch as fragments of your heart return,
you must know I was never a good bargain.
I yearn for the boy who pressed his hands against my thighs,
I let the silence of those nights suppress my desires.
I yearn, I yearn,
For a mere reprieve.
A way to turn back time,
to find the boy who was once mine.
-H.K
So this poem was inspired by the line in MJ:
“You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.”
The poem is in Katniss’ pov. It mainly talks about her regrets of letting Peeta go in CF.
I was trying to explore Katniss’ emotion post war when she returned to district 12, i realized that Peeta was probably never the same again. I know he and Katniss grow back together as best they can however, she can never really get back same exact boy before the hijacking.
So she finds little changes he does in his routine like taking sugar in his tea or sleeping with the windows closed. This is obviously not to be taken literally, Peeta doesn’t necessarily do all these things. It’s just to explain the little changes Peeta goes through metaphorically. The poem might be a little exaggerated at some points but I couldn’t help it ig.
