Thanks, I don't know where it came from.
WEED Reviewed by WEED on . Poem consisting of disorder/no handrails Wasn't high...Just immense imagination...and I wrote it in like...twenty minutes. :) Try and decipher the meaning, if there is one. :p The Chaos of Meshing Section I (The Gates) Each morning â?? priestly routine, ants making out on my arms. Leg bones jetting out and I am becoming Rating: 5