LetterBox Entries
Letterbox Entries


A collection of essays on media, pop culture, art analysis, relationships and femininity. Basically, subjects of interest to the Thoughtful Woman navigating a sometimes uncomfortable existence in the Modern World. 

Bedtime Stories: Series Set #1 | Mechanisms - "Arrow of the Compass"

"Arrow of The Compass."

This is track 3/8 from my poetry series, Mechanisms. This one tackles the subject of fears, and the question of facing them. 

You can listen to the full set under the 'Bedtime Stories' tab or by following me on Soundcloud, where each poem is available for download.

You can read the poem below:

The irrationality of fear has never made it any less persuasive, and to be afraid is to temporarily occupy dual space both here and in a world where the Worst has already happened. When terror strikes you are split into simultaneous existence, rendered Fully Engaged. Wide Awake. And I am responding to an instance that has Already Taken Place in that other space. Fear is the other side catching up to us, colliding with our instinct to resist it.

I am afraid of:

of bugs.
of mice,
of loud noises,
of stairs,
old age,
conditional love (secretly I distrust that anyone loves me at all unless I’ve ‘earned’ it)

—and I fear too,
The Dark.
I suspect it is hiding something.
I do not wish to find out what.

Darkness: Keeper of Secrets, shrouding all things in mystery. The Original Fear, The First Teacher, a reminder to not forget that that other world exists, overlaps with ours, threatens to engulf us whole. And to be frightened, to be cognizant of its panting breath at the nape of your neck: Fear. is an incentive of survival. a defense against chaos; an internal compass with which i prolong my inevitable reunion with the Darkness, and all else of its offerings.

in other words. sometimes i get scared and you hold my hand and it’s not so bad for a moment. i live to experience another terror, down the road, but again with you beside me and this time i cannot be brave enough to face the dark. i say sorry a thousand times, i don’t know how to get over it, but you don’t ask me to. i learn to undo all the bad thinking through soft reassurances. i build my own armour, tend to my own wounds, heal at my own pace. i learn how to bleed with better grace when i have to.
today survival looks like giving into fear, but with you i will always be safe.
— Arrow of the Compass by Lana C. Marilyn