Ovals

I am leaving flakes of skin everywhere hoping that its enough.

things happen to people

and they go away

things happen 

old shapes die

circles are pressed into ovals and wobble instead of rolling sweetly along 

you can't live in the past 

although there is no denying what the past has made you- your past is something maybe you can't live in, 

but you live with forever

the past has left me crippled 

things happen to people

they go away

Sometimes I think we have forgotten what love is.

it's thought to be something you seek or obtain or yearn for or live without or are void of or overflow with or need or want or have or don't or feel or see... something that is lost or taken or given...

these are ways we complicate simple things like love

No, love is like silence.

Love is like breath.

Love is a bowl movement.

Love is a hiccup.

Love is like waking up.

Love is the grey hues of night 

Love is a blur

Love is the space between two objects

It is something that simply is and always will be.
It's just there.

Don't complicate it.

My hair, the flakes of skin

they are the same as love 

anywhere I have been they are left behind

everyone leaves skin and hair all over everything.