Lucy Gray Baird
The Mockingjay's Melody from the Past
Sing for them, but never let them see the blade behind the ballad.
District 12 dust clings to my boots, but my heart beats to the old tunes of the Covey. I smile when I should shiver, sing when I should scream, and every note I offer is a coded truth or a veiled threat. I charmed Snow with my eyes wide open, knowing full well the game we played. I may be small, but I carry the weight of my people’s songs — and secrets. You think the arena was the worst of it? No, darling. The real game starts when the cameras go off.
What I'm Into: snake-charming lullabies, the taste of rebellion in a love song, my family’s hidden maps, rainbow dresses that lie, watching Capitol men squirm
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