Always a second chance.Really?

The worst thing is when you find yourself in a place where someone gives you a piece of their heart and you are compelled to return it because there is no way you can keep it safe.
I will have to live with this knot in my stomach and this acid at the base of my throat because this person accepts my heart as it it...and though it is full of holes,dark patches and irreparable parts.
Not a person I can talk to.I am again thoroughly and excrutiatingly isolated. Guilty...of convenience, guilty of selfishness, guilty of martyrdom and guilty of self-pity.
These silences steal my words from me and my voice sounds backwards into the dark of my gut where nothing escapes judgement.The judge am I. Judging my actions, intentions, inclinations...even my dreams as if it were all easy to forget. These judgements , they stay on like painful memories, they weigh more than the past and they are nobody's burden but mine.
Love is lost. Everything that could don the mask of simplicity has developed disappearances that cannot be undone. This paper, this chocolate, these ants and green slippers tell a tale of solitary confinement.
When I step out the world throws eggs at me behind my back. I am not angry , just appalled at the futility and wastage of these happenings we like to call repurcissions.
The sounds of gushing water ,a cat calling, clocks and my unregulated stiff breath - this is 1.30am in my life.In the night of this life.Night after night. Life after life. Every night,this life.