Mary Jane Kelly.

I live,for now,
Where,
Ones with similar curls around,
Strangling themselves by the cords,
For being so not usual.
Chances of revival’s gone,
Because there are no simple things,
Around me,around you,
To speak in riddles and share the secrets.
Mum’s the word,
For in my ethic,
You don’t believe,
And in your ethic,
My fate is not to live..
Share your word,sleep your mind,
Don’t come down to the apple’s heart,
For I’ll be waiting,like these Ho’s,
To stare and drown into shiny,
Papery,
Wavery,
And slightly misconceived notions of your head.
But,can I ask?
Use your Hands,to know me,
Dont skill yourself with a pauper like me.