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"unstationed" poems
My thoughts are running, on an unstationed path. My mouth is cunning, , im coughing tar, terribly rough black. I smell like a bag of ******* chippers,
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May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 4:10 PM UTC
PappythePotentiallyDeadPanda
FLEEDING
My thoughts are running, on an unstationed path. My mouth is cunning, , im coughing tar, terribly rough black. I smell like a bag of ******* chippers,
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