Tête-à-tête (tāt ə ˈtāt,ˌtet ə ˈtet)

     noun 1. a private conversation between two people.

The Tête-à-tête series is yet another attempt of pursuing something creative in the hopes that looking through life filled with constant wonder and amazement - for its beauty and grime, rawness and surrealism - could evoke inspiration and hope for future Jane.

I named it Tête-à-tête to symbolize two things: 1.) Two forms of media that I love and the wonderful stories they weave together. 2.) Two people - the writer and the reader - sharing secrets and experiences between the lines of a short story, an essay or in this instance, a poem. This series will feature photographs of things I find alluring, and a form of spontaneous and usually unedited literature of my own making.

You think it's easier to live when disappointment
can't come sprawling between your toes, and failure
can't sprout from the soil underneath your feet.
So you suffocate the hope tied on your ankles, and
extinguish the flames of fervor burning in your chest.

You wake up hoping to view life by the sidelines,
as if the photographs you took at 2:46am could
mask the empty films scattered on your sheets.
You forget that your worth is not a currency
other people can buy & control at their whim.
You forget that every inhale your lungs make is of
hope, of silver linings, and of better things to come.

You need to start filling the holes you've dug
in your ivory bones with kind words instead of
criticisms. You need to look at your scars and
see them for what they are: humanity,
experience, history and grace.

There's a difference between humility and
carving flesh out of your ribs until you're
left with the remnants of compliments you
felt you were unworthy of.
You can't keep exsanguinating your veins,
hoping to find more, when there's nothing
left to save.

Darling, there's nothing worth with cowering
in the darkness for a little while - even beautiful
sunsets acquiesce to evenings.
But you need to rise again. It is only then that
you begin to find yourself. It is only then that
you discover, you are living.

- 10/19/16

Please play the music before scrolling down to view the images

Music: Scary by Björk This Grayscale post is dedicated to people like me who are too terrified of crossroads, of loud noises, of jumping off the cliff (both metaphorically and literally), of falling in love, of committing, of letting go, of moving on, of heartbreak, of being too happy for fear that the worst is right around the corner. Here's to people like me whose butterflies in the stomach wear steel boots that trample on innards over every little thing, whose hands quiver at the thought of discomfort and changes and feeling too much. Here's to people like me who write long, run-on sentences with a series of ands because they feel too overwhelmed and are scared and anxious and exhausted. Here's to people like me, who would rather cower by the sidelines but have chosen to be brave instead because sometimes the person we're willing to risk for - whether it's someone else or ourselves - is more than worth it.