Spill

Vegetable oil slides down the sides of the bottle.
As dripping, sickening thuds cling to the sides,
The vibrations from the song of oppressive suggestions cause the nautilus to tremble in fear.
Murmuring voices, gently and gingerly meant,
Clash with waves of crashing water pouring down
Displayed as guilty, silent contemplation of innocent motions.
Through chaotic, silent contemplation, guilt sets in,
Tossing, turning, spinning. Learning
To avoid lemon scented comments in a sea of salty language.
Self-loathing clouds the ears,
Harmonized by incessant reproaches from oppressive suggestions.
The tumultuous melody comes to a close,
As tears dripping down the side of the bottle of vegetable oil puddle under the thick goop.

Oh look. A sponge.