I once heard about lovers who let go of each other and their fingertips never found their way back
They were too scared of the amount of love pouring out of them
It seemed easier to be alone...

And for some people it is
But for others, their lovers fill every piece of them
Every dream, poem, song, painting
Every thought is flooded by their smile
Or the way they look when they are happy

It's too much

The thoughts turn into aches and tears
For those people who can't stand be alone, when someone they love leaves them it feels like a piece of them has been ripped out
And they are left broken

And being alone means they have to learn how to love themselves
Demons and all