Drowning

Some things stick to you

Like hair on wet lips

Nagging for your attention

A harsh word

A look of disappointment

A bad day you thought would never end

Others wet your skin with oil

And stain your insides a deep deep black

That cannot be washed off

They make all of the others look so small

Until you don’t see them anymore

They are swallowed up into bigger thoughts

Good and bad

Old and new

Inventory has been taken

Didn’t you notice?

Of course not

You were drowning in oil