was it a dear john or dear jan or maybe just deer

tiny little minds
of gold and silver gilding
all seen through
a scene of everyone and you
without all of me
none of you will ever come back
all because of me
or so they say
mirrors can be the hardest things to look into
they are not the cloudy milky
crystal balls we all want them to be
we rather just see through our own
balls
if we have them
i can't even see through my own damn glasses
scratched and etched with each
passing of all that could ever be bad
a glimmer of good
found in the eyes of my woman
looking through them too
to catch my eyes
big brown
and courderoy
my irisis'
clutch my pupils tight
tight enough to still see her
and to tell the rest of you plainly
"please fuck off"