i woke up from the most perfect dream where i floated on top of the universe, swimming in that strange blend of darkness and lightness. your hand was my hand and our eyes were no longer ours because they belonged to something we couldn’t understand, like listening to a voice that speaks with sounds we’ve never heard of, like digging our own graves. 

we haven’t met, but i’m your sister. we have the same eyes and our hearts beat at the same time and our fingernails grow at the same rate. at one point we might have felt the same way at the same time, like two fish swimming against the same current. do you know why fish never float to the top of the ocean? the pressure coming at them from all sides keeps them eternally submerged. i would like to call myself a fish and spend the rest of my life chasing worms at the ends of dangerous hooks and swallowing rocks and sinking like the Titanic, but the gods have deemed me human and who am I to defy them?

if everyone decided to play Hamlet at the same time, they couldn’t; there aren’t enough skulls in the ground left for us to talk to, but there are enough matches in a liquor store to set the whole world on fire.

i took the whole world into me, rearranged it, and sent it back out as a question. i didn’t know what the question was or if there was even an answer. 

but i’ll leave the light on just incase.

Penumbra - a partial shadow, as in an eclipse, between regions of complete shadow and complete illumination.