staring at her face was the only remedy i needed to cure my sadness and deprived soul

no longer i yearn for other things
i have came attached
to an angel in disguise sent from the 7th paradise

letters i wrote to her
tattered but not torn those yesteryears of collecting photographs of her
she was my Monroe

bit by bit I detached the petals from its thorny stalk
she loves me she loves me not
is a question that i will never obtain a concrete answer

i walked away from her grave with a sense of reluctance
because i knew
under those 6ft of soil & dirt
she beckons me to join her
my Matilda
that day will come