The Stupid

Is it stupid of me in wanting your love, knowing that you may have forgotten me.
Or maybe like myself, you're afraid of knowing that you're hated.
And I do.
I hate you.
Loathe you.
Only because, you neglected me.
Only because,you disappointed me.
Only because, I loved you.
Yet.
There was never a call or a visit to my door.
I made countless excuses for you, still hoping beyond my broken heart,
For a love that was created from the very start.
But was left slowly wilting away like a forgotten rose.
I am that rose.
That you selfishly gave life to, only
To care more for that youthful daisy and forget about past love.
I try to live upon the helpful raindrops and depend on the sun.
Still.
I hope for a day when your eyes turn to my bleeding petals.
Even if only for a second.
Its stupid in desperately wanting your attention.
But I cannot erase the blood that flows inside my roots.
My connection with you. I hate it even more.
That's why before I die, you won't taint my lips.
You won't be given a call or a letter to your door.
I want you to feel my own pain.
That ache that is like death but never dying.
That pain of living hell.
After all, you are the one that gave me life.
So you must feel my death.
Who is stupid now?