and sometimes,

     when I am standing up tall
or sitting
    in the front seat of my car
or just caught
  
    floundering in the Inter-nets,

I'm thinking:

     there's too much trouble here.
this life is filled
   and overflowing
  with oily hatred and acidic greed,
     and it can cover and smother
     this poor girl's heart,
until every good bone
   and every thin moral fiber
         in her body breaks.

and I think,
   I am not A Rock.
   I am not A Light.
   I am not A Poet.

I don't have the
           solidity
           shine
           words,

to fight.
    because the buildup is consistent
  and the grime is caked on,
        and I'm not Mrs. Clean triple action
           by any means.