I wonder how someone can enjoy being alone?
To find comfort in solitary.  
Whether physically or emotionally alone,
How can they stay in silence for so long?

I would rather be surrounded by hundreds of thousands of strangers
Than be by myself.
The being alone itself isn't what scares me,
It's the silence.
Because in that silence I am forced to comprehend
That maybe there is nothing more.

There is no other galaxy's that hold
Millions of billions of stars,
There is no other planets like Mars and Jupiter,
There is no other earths.

An earth for each chance you messed up or never took,
An earth for every mistake you wish you could change
And the opposite outcomes from them.
An earth for every time you were never enough,
Where you were far too much,
And you were never the one.
An earth to see what could have been,
But there is nothing.

I don't know,
A vast nothingness is scare than living in this hell.

And maybe this is all we have,
Maybe this is the only earth.
Maybe I'm the only me and you,
You are the only version of you.

And the only other earth there is?
The one in our dreams.
Where we do everything right.