Dear Meir

Dear Meir,


I created you. Do you understand me? When I was born, my mother named me Lilith to give me the strength to be a woman in the way I want to be. Lilith, throughout history,  has many sides: I am a demon, I am a goddess, I am immortal, I am sin, I am love, I am family, I am rebellion. I was named after the one that gives life and takes it and I gave you breath, but I can’t ever take it away.


You are real even though your blood is black or blue or even red with a paper brain and paper heart: you are the strands that come out of my head when I run my fingers through my hair at three am and beg please work with me: I came up with you and I know nothing about you at all in equal measure: I can trawl countless websites and books that give me outlines and say know your creations better by naming their favorite animal but that doesn’t tell me why I know that it’s a cat or maybe a tiger.


I said that you have brown hair but sometimes it is blonde, I said that you are another person, that you are him, but sometimes you are me, I don’t like that, there is already another girl I made that is me and I have a hard enough time dealing with her, I don’t need that from you but okay, okay, okay. I wish I could have lunch with you, How is Josiah?  I would say, and you would tell me, because I don’t actually know even though I love him with my whole heart as well.


I don’t even know if you would actually like me. Do you know how terrifying that is? Would you like me? If God makes everyone, then he makes those that detest him as well. Is that what I have done? I am so scared that I would be boring or annoying or not understanding of who you are. I want to help you but I don’t know you. How can I help someone I don’t know.


This is what I know about you:

  1. You love Josiah and Chicago and rap music.

  2. You work at a coffee shop and a strip club and sneak the dancers your tips, sometimes.

  3. You like cats. And dogs.

  4. You are a perfect example of someone that doesn’t like people, but you actually, quietly, do.

  5. You have to go on your toes to get the dressing.

  6. You are known throughout the world by select people and you don’t know who they are. That terrifies you and excited you in equal measure.


That’s all I know. That’s it.


I am begging you to please work with me- I want to make you even more- You never leave me alone, so the best you can do is let me know what your biggest fear is. Nothing big. You feel real to me, you feel so real- I do not truly know another human, however, so is it any surprise that I have no way of knowing you?


A scene where you get beat up might be therapeutic for me. I said I wanted to have lunch with you so I wrote a chapter where the Girl did and that is the closest I can get.


Okay, Okay, Okay.

So I did.

I am??





This poem is about: