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PerlaaagPoems
A shredding. A tearing of it. Pointed finger stirring through it like a child does with milk skin in a hot drink. There the hopes, too blind to look into the eyes of, scurry away like frightened silverfish. Who's? Who's are they? Surely not mine.
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Jun 21, 2025
Jun 21, 2025 at 7:49 AM UTC
Milk Skin Dreams
A shredding. A tearing of it. Pointed finger stirring through it like a child does with milk skin in a hot drink. There the hopes, too blind to look into the eyes of, scurry away like frightened silverfish. Who's? Who's are they? Surely not mine.
#poem#hopes#dreams#comfort
Written by
Perlaaag
F/California
Jun 21, 2025
Jun 21, 2025 at 7:49 AM UTC
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