Julia Julia Julia

Julia doesn't love me anymore, 
so I skipped the town with seven grams
of cocaine and a notebook.

Love kills slowly. 
Drugs kill quickly.

Well death snuck up on my heart 
at a quarter past 2 a.m.
and that's when I heard the owl coo 
and the snake slither in the bushes.

That's when I heard the raindrops 
settle on my windowpane,
and that's when I began to reminisce 
about that one time 
we drank tea around the campfire
until we pissed our pants 
and fell backwards off the wooden-log seats, 
rolling in the grass, 
laughing our asses off 
until we didn't have asses anymore.

And then we made love under the moonlight
to the sound of the howling wolf.

That was euphoric, wasn't it, my dear Julia?

Julia, we are greed-stricken wolves.
You tear at my flesh, 
and I tear back at yours.

Julia, you make me mad.
Julia, when we love, it's mad.

Oh Julia, 
do you remember when you told me 
that our souls were intertwined
like jungle vines
and to untangle them would be impossible?

Oh Julia, I'm too crazy for you, 
and you're too determined for me.

Julia, I am weak.
I'm like a wrecked bum, 
begging for your change.

I'm begging for a piece of your poisonous cake.

Julia, do you believe in Karma?
Julia, do you believe in Dharma?

Julia, do you remember
when I told you that I was going far away, 
and you didn't believe me?

I packed my bags 
and took off to the train station, 
and I arrived at Bremen Hauptbahnhof 
with my apathy and a hundred dollar bill.

That's bullshit, Julia.
I don't need that shit, Julia.
I don't need you, Julia.

Julia, Julia, Julia...

Everything is good now, Julia.

 

Disclaimer: I've never had a lover named Julia.
But Julia isn't a fictional character.
In fact, Julia is a conglomeration of lovers I've loved, or lovers I didn't really love. Julia is a thing before Julia is a person.

© Aylin Sozen

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