If I Were A Time Traveller

The Man In The High Castle, coffeeshop conversations about fate, serendipitous meetings, and resistance inspired this piece. I also happened to meet someone a few weeks ago and for some reason that reminded me of time travel, destiny and a certain transendence.

I wondered if I were a part of the solution or part of the problem. Was I even strong enough to take up the fight? Was I too wounded to make another sacrifice? I’m not sure, so I just wrote about it like usual.

Oh my.

I honestly don’t need to get sucked into this fantasy



If I were a time traveller.

  1. 1776. 1865. 1933. 1962. 1983.

But am I the caged bird?

A wounded one, perhaps?


Am I strong enough to survive?





Do I haunt his memory, his thoughts?

Or was I just a fleeting moment, one of 24?


If I were a time traveller.

Am I fighting the good fight?
Am I a part of the resistance or the problem?

Is he the good guy?

Or is he the bad guy in good guy clothes?

With good guy smiles and good guy dreams?

Why’d he ask me what I wanted to be?

What does he want?
Answers. Information. A story. A victim.

Will I play the game or play the role?

No, I’m not quite sure,

I wanna know.

My mind was lost.

In thoughts of plots.

Escaping reality at

Whatever cost.

All my greatest energies expire and I’d become hard-wired

To crumble apart

When the world breaks my heart.

If I were a time traveller.

Would the wound hurt any worse?

Could I escape, run far away?

I thought comfort was a fairytale

And freedom was a dream.

Democracy set up to fail

And peace was war it seemed.


If I were a time traveller.

Perhaps I would not have known

The number of your telephone

Or the way you felt like home.

But if I were a time traveller

Maybe then it could explain

The way you looked at me

Like we’re tethered by the same string.

Perhaps that could explain something.

Ta! 🙂 ❤


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