Just another four letter word,

Fool's love.

It's the sort of love that tries not to love,

Not to care

Not to try at all

But eventually, one bird will.

It's the sort of love that tries not to want

But cries in the night,

Shameful of what's happened.

It's the sort of love that's intoxicated by its' own being

It tries not to cry

It tries not to beg

But breaks down regardless.

It's the sort of love that begs for forgiveness,

But the other bird will walk away

Unsure

Uncertain

Contemplating and scared.

It leaves the other bird kneeling on the floor

With their tear-streaked face

Their heart spilled on the floor.