deep.

my blade is not made of iron or steel.

sleep, give in;

call the shadow of ache,

of whispers loud.

as the sun sets, I’ll take my leave

where I needed my blade so sharp.

Julle Seera, April 2021

unpure

was i not
as naive as you made me out to be
so good, so good

were you not
choosing to see
close your eyes, i didn't lie

are we not
muddles of sins
it's only human, it's only human

am i not
deserving of dignity
even if impure, impure

Julle Seera, May 2020