John Destalo

John Destalo Aug 2020

a walk

my feet lift
and land

in a slow rhythm

no deadlines
no intentions

I take in the
clean air

feel my lungs
grow

feel the blood
flow

from head to toe

let my mind
float

to the clouds

I see through
the mist

of most days
and live in

this moment

John Destalo Aug 2020

holding in

is anything more
painful than

holding in
the pressure

building
in any part

it doesn’t
matter which

everything needs
to be released

is anything more
painful than

holding in

the clouds
know the answer

John Destalo Aug 2020

tender

I am tender
to the touch

a fruit fallen
from a tree

bruising easily

you want to
cut out my

damaged parts
and discard them

believing enough
will remain to

satisfy you
but you don’t

know me
the damage runs

deeper than you
can see

I am tender
to the core

John Destalo Aug 2020

second chance

I cut myself
with

blades of
grass

roseblood
drips

creating
mourning
dew

mother
sun rises

awakening
the healing

powers of
heat and light

I rise as one
who is free

to live a
second life

John Destalo Aug 2020

wistful

wind is my energy
lifting spirits

through this forest

I dance with
the trees

my perfect partners

bending for me
becoming my strength

when I want to fall
I lose myself

in the moment

become a sprite
making a wish

about last night

John Destalo Aug 2020

on the floor

I am curled
into a ball
holding myself
together
trying to
squeeze
from me
the poison
past if
I squeeze
hard enough
maybe I
will become
a hydrogen
bomb
and implode
obliterating
this memory

John Destalo Aug 2020

we need to fall

I imagine you
are love

a time before
the rotting

of the garden

a time before
knowing

a time before

need
want
hunger
desire
fire
pain
stain
passion
obsession

and loss

when there
was life

but no
reason

to live