february

recollect some months gone by,
a stupor of tears
and the early morning rise.
that's when she said; "you nearly died"
and my thoughts resounded; "i wish i had."
then reeling in the sunlight shafts,
and lungs that ceased to be.
then the purge.
i cannot calm these heady nerves
no intoxicate excuse, just a sober merge.
a lack, a need to pretend.
could you like me then?