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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
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