“Diary,” a Poem by Marisa Crawford
From the Collection Diary
My nose is bleeding
Should I go see my Sex and the City doctor.
She’d be like, did you move here for a man or a job.
I’m walking in Midtown,
I’m like, good for you in your colorful outfit.
Sad for a sea of black.
I went to California with a youthful aching in my heart
and I left it there / didn’t.
My sister’s and my text relationship is so I do this, I do that.
I text her, I washed my new bra and it’s so tightI keep gasping for air in my cubicle.
She writes back, I fell asleep on the train
and when I woke up a spider was dangling in front of my eyes.
My cartoon world where I live with you.
Where I float across the ocean.
Where I miss my stop every day
but it doesn’t matter / girl power.
Sometimes I post the things in my head
onto the Internet for a certain few.
For those to whom I’m like “good for you,”
your pastel dress in a sea of black
Maybe I’m like, hungry.
Gluten free Oreos. Can’t hear myself think.
I’m listening to “Free Fallin'” on my Walkman.
I go into the grocery store and they’re playing it too.
Cause I forgot the line & Tom Petty reminded me.
I wanna fly down over Mulholland /
wanna collapse on the grocery store floor.
The universe told me to go into the grocery store
and buy just cookies and milk.
D would’ve called it a “heroic purchase.”
My therapist was like, maybe you’re not over it.
The taste of the milk bored my tongue.
I’m walking around the grocery store.
“Epic” by Faith No More.
I’m running on the treadmill listening to
Lady Gaga and thinking about my sister.
And my sister calls and leaves a message
that she was listening to Lady Gaga
on the treadmill and thinking of me.
I text her two girls and two crystal ball emojis.
What if D dies.
And I’m like, how could you not need poetry?
Walking home w/ my grocery bag on my arm,
it feels like a tourniquet.
Use my computer as an extension cord.
Exercise or sleep.
You emptied the laundry all over the bed
and I screamed like a bomb exploded.
All the things that I’m interested in.
Will I take a selfie at the end of the world.
A previous version of this poem appeared in Blush Lit. Diary by Marisa Crawford is available via Spuyten Duyvil Press.