I wrote this one today.
Honestly, I just wanted to rhyme a little bit and then had a blackout, I have no idea what I did, during which I somehow finished the poem. It's creepy. Was I possessed or something-?

Title: Senses

No weed.
I feel better,
When we meet.
I send a letter,
With a seed
Of mine.
Do you like it?
K   I   D?
See.
Smell.
Hear.
Taste.
Feel.
It's all the same.
You found me lame.
I will get you.
You will be mine
After this line.
S   I   T.

As I said, I really don't know-