My love was the brutal and bitter kind,
frayed at the edges.
I gave it to giants and gods,
as giants and gods demanded.
Righteous was a fiction,
and I was only small.
My love had changed,
as I had changed,
and neither for the better.
Structural damage is done,
wear and tear on our souls,
worn and torn by far too much cruelty.
I have no indignation left,
and I hate the creature they have made of me.