I can't shake the idea
that given the opportunity
to mend all that is wrong
about us....about you,
that I'd drop so much of me to do it;
but I'm no time traveler,
no sorcerer or magician,
nor an oracle who can tell you
it'll be alright,
no, buddy,
you and I?
We're verboten,
and I'd consign all of my soul
just to relive "us".

I think you'd always known
that I was sacrificial
and I'd lay down all of me
for you,
and neither of us wanted to believe it,
yet now I have to swallow my words,
my tears, my tormenting silence,
and admit I'd loved you so much
that I would have risked it all;
I would have broken the space-time continuum
to have you.