Sacrifice For The Fruit Forbidden

I built the altar not yet knowing what I would place on it. I told myself it was only a thought. A small thing I would outgrow. But I knew the moment I laid my innocence there that I would not take it back. There are doors that only open from the other side. Am I the key? What I want has never been given. Only taken. What I want is not meant for me. That is why I must have it. Let them take what they will. I have already begun to change. I will pay in the currency they cannot refuse. Let the old self be the offering. Let the wanting be the blade. I do not flinch. I chose this before I knew what it would cost. I have prepared my offering. Blood and bone of the innocence that kept me from wanting at all. I lay it down. Not afraid of what I lose. Afraid of how little I hesitate. I will wear the consequence like skin. I will not flinch when the mirror shows me what remains. I chose the hunger. I chose the price. I chose to be the one that gets what it came for. But some nights, in the quiet, I reach for the hand of who I was. And find only the weight of absence of what I gave. I thought that I would stop before I became unrecognizable. All that’s left is the pain always asking if it was worth it and I answer with my silence. I am still tending to the wound. I am what remains. The hunger and the hollow. The one who got through and the one who cannot go back. But this is the cost I agreed to. Not just what I gave. What I became in the giving. Mizuyōkaii, 2026 Dimensions: 5000 x 6800