foolish-sage

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Static and stars by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Static and stars

Sweet someone You're hanging stars up in the static You let maybes into your dreams But these years of ours are crowding out your favorite promises Dear loved one You open up the sky to let the storms drift in You say the thunder and the silence sound like God Listen, my loveliest somebody Your heartbeat thunders like God's whispers speaking your maybes into my dreams and your electric silence shimmers over us promising Closer, someday, closer

Ongoing by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Ongoing

I live with pain. Pain is in me like a habit. It’s just waiting for the right reminder. And sometimes it is standing at the kitchen sink and sometimes it is the extra step on a sunny sidewalk and then it’s back. I wait for pain. Sometimes when it comes it’s like a betrayal. Sharp and bright and vicious when my limbs are almost steady. Sometimes pain is my truest friend. It is there at the edges, and I know it will be back. I can look at some future moment, some mundane burden and I know that it will be close so it can push me heavy down into my feet I know that it will walk with me, folding me, twisting me. I live with pa

Small prayers by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Small prayers

All of your father’s hopes are bundled into your struggling heart twitching and trapped behind your delicate ribs but pounding, pounding Your mother’s dreams are tucked into your marrow secret and strong in your small folded arms and waiting, waiting Those cherished lungs of yours are treacherous they are still too fragile for our air but they are lined with your parents’ love and their smallest dearest prayers that you will grow, love, grow so someday maybe they can know you

Haunted by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Haunted

Born wrong raised angry What happened to you? All we have is The maybe and the waiting the way our fingers fold the way our balanced bodies know more about falling then lasting These are the signs that we give each other Of our haunted flesh The crackling brains that shimmer beautiful The pain we know best glows soft as summer stormclouds It is the language we use to find each other like lightning in a dark room What happened to you? The world is filled with sharp edges and high ledges And things we can't and loves we don't and how can we survive like this What happened t

Forgetting by foolish-sage, literature

Loved large by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Loved large

When we're small our loves are all in miniature to fit us tangled together like shoelaces and pockets full of lint we laugh louder than the sun is bright and we don't notice how the light changes our eyes When we get older our loves match like evaporating handprints on dirty windows And again they are small enough to slip into that broken laughing light that pulls you slowly from your sleep Now these rattling hearts aren't strong enough to keep us warm and so we tangle together under unfamiliar light and watch the scattered years stretch our loves large enough to hold us

Marks by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Marks

There is a place where every ache is visible. The people who live there learn to read each other’s skin. Even heartache has its place spreading crimson above their lungs to mark every time that the breath almost didn’t come and every time that would have meant relief. These people can see the stain of muscles screaming, the years infect the bloodstream and it is obvious when their joints become weak. A thread of red like old wounds bleeding crackles over their knees, their backs. A person in pain is painted like an artist tracing out the story of every mistake. The addicts and the prophets carry black lines where their veins shoul

Strangest hours by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Strangest hours

You spend your life mapping a falling foreign world You whisper its shattered language in your sleep crunching wheels, turning, slowing and a thousand words for "wait" I tiptoe to its shores when you're not watching try to dream my way into its strangest hours Its children are prophets and insomniacs with sharp and bitter wrists Your air tastes like cigarettes and snow Your cities have gentler light than mine a secret tide of stars Sometimes you drag its borders to my door and I, at last, can fold your absence up and greet you gasping at the edge

Hungry Dark by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Hungry Dark

I’ve got too much sorrow in my bones to drag my body home my knees can’t bear the weight of more regret You’ll have to meet me here then, if you want to reach me follow my tired silence until you reach the stretched shadows at the end of a world wait, until your wicked limbs are shaking and your body is rotten with grief Call out to me when it’s so cold that your thoughts have all frozen I’ll wait for you there until our last collision when our eyelids are sealed with ice Our delicate skin will start breaking but trust me, my last love, my darling the collapse was with you always faithful, hungry when yo

Regrets by foolish-sage, literature

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Static and stars by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Static and stars

Haunted by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Haunted

Forgetting by foolish-sage, literature

Loved large by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Loved large

Strangest hours by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Strangest hours

Hungry Dark by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Hungry Dark

Contradictions by foolish-sage, literature

Desperation by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Desperation

Your hands are desperate like they're clenched around a steering wheel at two in the morning, too fast, too late. Your hate is colder than your fingertips less delicate more pain These scars you have stretch farther than your honesty, and I have more faith in all your demons than your saints. Wishes burning hot as cigarettes against the skin on the back of your neck, the blood in your veins pulsing at the edge of your vision that distance will pull your mind away from you already you can only love till you're in pieces already all you need is chaos you've learned to crave the taste of dust

Listening by foolish-sage, literature

Possibility by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Possibility

Sweet someone, maybe I've been waiting for you. Holding my eyes open for a smile like yours to half fill them up, held almost perfect in my mind. I can't read the miles in your hands, but if mine weren't so cold, I'm sure I could hold them. Lovely somebody, you would be perfect for cloudy afternoons. I can feel it in the way your footsteps stretch and bend like you're always waiting for the storm to hit, like you're drunk on the raindrops that haven't fallen, that will smooth their way down your skin like sunrises in places you've never been to, but you're sure they were made for starting over. Darling stranger, fingertips curled in li

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On conversations by rober2, literature

Bitlets 259 by Nichrysalis, literature

June 1, 2014 1:39 PM by KaitForest, journal

June 1, 2014 1:39 PM

Nov 16, 2014

I lean in to kiss you. I push hard, because I want you to love me. and you push back because you want to fuck me. I am a cliche. for so long I believed that you loved me even when there were sings to prove that you did not. I am that girl that clings to an idea of love fed to her by the twisted mouth of someone just as hungry. you unclip my jeans, you push back my neck, and I hold onto you tight, thinking this is love, this is how you love

Deviation Spotlight

Your World by foolish-sage, literature

Literature

Your World

For you I leap centuries. For you I will swallow the light until it’s deep and dark and everything that’s supposed to matter does. Until the lonely leave their homes and the voice that narrates my thoughts is somebody I’ve met and loved, and there’s a girl in a coffee shop writing advice on napkins and it’s right, it’s true. When everything is just the way we know it used to be. The way we feel somewhere in our bones and storms that it should be, it will be. When we don’t need streetlights because we’re safe under the stars. We don’t need walls to close us in, because cold is a myth and blood does

Your World

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About foolish-sage

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United States
Deviant for 17 years

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My Bio

Hi, I'm Stephanie.
I like ice cream, sad poems and happy songs. I have no idea what I want to do in life, besides maybe live in the woods somewhere writing corny poetry all over my walls in crayon.

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Toad the Wet Sprocket, Death Cab for Cutie, The Fray

Favourite Writers

Emily Dickenson, Carl Sandburg, Robin McKinley

Posts

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foolish-sage

Dec 4, 2018

I'm thinking about coming back here, since people seem to be leaving Tumblr in droves, but I'm kind of attached to the little blog I've built up there, so we'll see...

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foolish-sage

Mar 18, 2009

The coming year(s)

0 min read

Hi internet, I haven't really used this journal all that much, but here's an update, for anyone interested. It turns out that I didn't get into the school clsoe to home I had kind of chosen that one as my top school, because people kept asking and I needed something to say, and because it was sort of the safe choice, that didn't take me out of my comfort zone. On the one hand, I was kind of disappointed, but the more I've been thinking about it, the more this seems almost liberating. I can make any choice I want now. I am going to be leaving home. This terrifies me senseless, and thrills me beyond belief. I think maybe this could be good

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foolish-sage

Apr 18, 2008

Tag-zor'd?

0 min read

Rules: 1. You have to post the rules. 2. Every person tagged has to write 10 things about themselves. 3.You have to write them in your journal. 4.After that, tag 5 more people. 5.Go to that person's page and tell them about it. Bonus fact! It took me a ridiculously long time to think of things for this. For those of you don't know, I'm amazingly indecisive. Anyway. I was tagged by ~Toa-Po (https://www.deviantart.com/toa-po) I tagged a couple of people I don't actually know, so I apologize if that was rude of me, or anything. 1) I am a horrible whistler. 2) I don't quite know what I want to do with my life, but I want it to be meaningful and worth waking up obscen