If you're easy to be love as you believe to be, why does it hurts me so bad to do so?

You stabbed my heart countless time,

Yet here i am; taking every stab.

Like a boiling pot,

You would explode like mad.

You said that you can make me the happiest, 

But what have i become?

I gave you my heart,

Yet you couldn't take care of it.

Like a masochist,

I still choose you.

I have never envied Aurora,

Until I met you.

I wished i could be her.

No,

Not because she has a prince, nor that you're mine.

But it's because of:

Sleeping,

Without worries.

Being able to sleep for so long,

--having to be able not to feel any kind of feeling; be it loneliness or depression

Sleep,

Forever.

Sleep,

And never having to see the reality of you, tearing down my hopes about such happiness.