"Are you afraid of the dark?" by Kimberly Glanzman
a. Yes, because the dark weighs more than water, and fills my lungs more quickly.
b. Yes, because the dark is an old man smoking in the corner, gathering my secrets beneath his knitting-needle knuckles. he sells my longings & my lies to fairies with hair of broken glass, lips bleeding beneath stitches broken open; a parade of crooked heartbeats with irises alight. they steal into your room to match their breathing to your breathing; write my secrets on edges of playing cards with their teeth. when you wake, they sing a stilted dirge & cascade them at your feet.
c. No. The dark is a construct of the brain, because eyes can only see. The brain remembers but what it remembers happened years ago and now my body is the body of a fish, sleek and slippery and quick enough to flee.
e. I am darkness, but I am not yours.
In a tragic turn of events, Kimberly Glanzman, who was probably an orca or an anemone in a previous life, now lives in the Arizona desert. She writes words in various shapes and sizes, which you can find on her website kimberlyglanzman.com, or by following her on Twitter @glanzman_k.