Why does it feel like I cannot come to terms with the inevitability of heartache?

My body is in the process of failing me, because the war inside my head is never-ending.
I am not your safe place.

My hands have become cowards, unable to hold onto the last little hope I see glimpses of.

Why does it feel like I have failed you?
I have dug myself out of the darkness, convinced that you were the light, but I cannot be that.
I am not your safe place.

Why does it feel like I am suffocating the both of us?
I hold my breath. I release it.
Have I given up? Is this me giving up?
Why is this lump in my throat bigger than me?

You cannot cry with me. Why is this room so quiet? The silence is deafening. I have become a war-zone, fighting demons that are not my own.

I am not your safe place. I am not love.
You are the epitome of dysfunction. I am poison.

Why can I not see further than this pit of brokenness I find myself in?
I am sorry. I am not your safe place