The speaker is stuck in a painful bind, and the poem is built from a chain of "if" statements that all lead to loss. Staying silent hurts the person being addressed. Telling the truth might keep them safe, but it could destroy the speaker, who expects to be called a liar and pushed out. Even protecting the other person might bring hatred and distrust. Only once does the speaker hope for something better: "If I give you a chance, / Will you listen / Or use me?"
The poem never says who "he" is or what the speaker knows, so the danger stays vague. That makes the mood tense and uneasy, like someone walking on thin ice. The repeated opening line, "If talking ever took us places," frames the whole thing as a wish. The first time it brings closeness, "closer than skin." The second time it ends with the speaker "safer than dirt," a bleaker image that suggests safety might come only from being buried, or disappearing. The feeling is fear, loneliness, and a longing to be believed.