Dry Her Eye Poem by js. lucius

At night the city cries.
The stale odor of her living dead
is just too much to bear.
It's been so long.
We've grown so impersonal.
She's drowning beneath a flood
of wounded footsteps.

On the same corner
where people would gather and kick it,
they stare each other down
over cars, clothes, and criminal status.
As if lusting after an exterior existence
justified such inferior ways.

Sometimes I see lightning in the distance;
other times it's too obvious
and can't fool myself.
The flashing lights of crime scenes
will momentarily inflict blindness
if you stare too long.

I've heard of truth, but find endless lies.
The lies of others and even my own.
There are so many facades to choose from.
I must free myself of these unstable ways.
I'm breaking down.
Have we really locked ourselves
into opposing motions?

Some divides cut deeper than others.
But she's so fragile-this city.
Invisible, we could be so much more
than ghosts wandering through a maze of mirrors.
All you have to do is see me;
I'm coming with a question to leave my mark...

...Where Is Why?