#to be loved you must go through to mortfying ordeal of being known

[olivierperrier]

{ @astrotechne​ sends us a forehead kiss, curtesy of Ofioúchos }

“Something's not right about what I'm doing but I'm still doing it-- living in the worst parts, ruining myself. My inner life is a sheet of black glass. If I fell through the floor I would keep falling. The enormity of my desire disgusts me.” -Richard Siken

        IT’S GETTING BAD AGAIN -  an empty bottle of what used to be red wine stands next to its half full twin brother by the time ollie has had the willpower to call Ofioúchos, and even then he only breathes into the phone when a familiar voice on the other side asks ‘hello?’ and the word drips with concern. he hangs up before he can hear Ofiouchos utter his name, afraid for a moment to hear it said. ollie doesn’t know why he can’t speak to the only one he wants to see - the only one who could possibly understand - there is a restlessness within ollie’s self he isn’t sure he could ever tame. anxiety takes the form of bloody creatures in his torso with sharp nails and gnawing teeth that wear away from the inside of his ribcage and making a nest from the bone shavings they make. ollie expects any moment to see his chest split open like a bloody flower, his own hands ripping out organs and bones to desperately claw at the scurrying entities and SCRAPE them out so he can find peace in being hollow. but that isn’t how this works and it never has been. so he shakes out one, two blue pills from an orange bottle he despises and washes them down with more deep red as if he can drown the scrabbling animals in him and make them choke on the pills and finally give him peace PLEASE.     a knock hits his door just before a wine dark sky breaks to thunderstorm.     Ofioúchos finds ollie swaying in the doorframe with eyes as dark as bruises     and wineglass held so tight in trembling hand it could shatter. thunder booms     in the sky above the serpent constellation and rabbit-hearted mortal.     ollie to flinches so hard it hurts and black spots threaten his vison. Ofioúchos     speaks and ollie can’t hear them, ears rushed with static as he stumbles back     to let them in. why does he do that? no one has been there before when     needed no one cared and yet here they are before him,             creating stars in the black abyss where before there was only                                        ALONE.    thunder splits above them again and the wineglass shatters on the floor;     dropped as ollie brought his hands to cover his ears. there is no sense    of should or should not any longer as the xanax and alcohol numb life                and his sense of burning shame to a dull roar. gentle hands pulls the stumbling bookkeeper away from the mess and to safety and olivier wants to shatter himself at the act of tenderness he doesn’t deserve. ollie pulls his hands away for a minute and the apartment pitches and spins  threatening to pull ollie under until Ofioúchos draws ollie into their orbit once more. They smell of fire and ozone and juniper as they bend close and press a kiss olivier’s forehead - a gesture of protection. the action is soft, hand cupping ollie’s face up and just for a moment there is enough safety to take a rattling breath in before the next crack appears in the sky. instead of shattering, olivier melts into being’s starry comfort and curls fingers to grasp them closer for the first time in his life instead of pushing away. 

            the whole universe turns into a ringing in his ears centered at the lips of a                                                                 constellation.