March 21st, 2026

The Altar of Sacrifice

Sometimes I think that if I were to burn everything down the holiness of everything around me would manifest into a single pearl you would insert inside your body and the world would be whole. This is untrue. Sometimes I think that if I were to compress everything I ever loved that wasn't you into a single marble you would hold it in your hand, and eat it. As you chewed it up, the people I love would die under your teeth and their tears and blood would make you realize that I still want more, and now you are responsible for awakening this ancient hunger in my soul. Sometimes I wish that the destruction of everything would make you look at me just a little bit longer so I would have an easy way of being worthy of your gaze.

But none of that is true. None of that makes any sense, it's me looking for an easy way to reconcile the things I've done with the things I could do and the things I will do. Under the dagger of my heart you find the hearts of others, and the altar you "own" collects dust. Every sacrifice I could ever fantasize of making will be misfiled in the bureaucracy of your Sagacious mind, and I would never reach Heaven.

I can't help it. I make a shelf for you somewhere in my mind and I burn incense at the altar. The pictures circle my mind and the wax melts until there is nothing left but a wet puddle.