Forever – is composed of Nows

Trinidad, Ca
1978
Dear Mother,

Thanks for your nice long letter. Michelle wanted to send you the deer she colored & cut out, so I’m writing you a note to go with it. She doesn’t like to color between lines & needs to practice that & cutting with scissors to prepare for printing letters on the lines. The teacher says she goes too fast. I’m so glad I go once a week so I can see what she’s doing & where she needs help. She is what letter a word starts with, by sound.

Here is what is this about. I don’t know what I’m about. Most people ignore me now and I’m not sure why, but I don’t want to know why, and even if I knew why, I wouldn’t remember anyway. I’m a handful on my best of days. My best of days happened decades ago. I can hardly live with myself. And I’m not. Nobody is. Time is something that speeds by on a billion schedules, gently waving soft branches. Like a willow tree’s swaying leaves. Around and around and around: north, south, east, west—, transparent lacy webs. Life billows. I get tired easily and right now I’m busy imagining the reality of slitting my wrists. Three hospital stays have informed me that pills don’t work. I’m scared. I’m this tired because I hardly eat. Also, my brain has stopped functioning, which is exhausting. For once, this isn’t on purpose. I haven’t made it to the store yet—I haven’t yet—I haven’t yet—I haven’t yet. I haven’t.

Forever – is composed of Nows – (690)
BY EMILY DICKINSON

Forever – is composed of Nows –
‘Tis not a different time –
Except for Infiniteness –
And Latitude of Home –

From this – experienced Here –
Remove the Dates – to These –
Let Months dissolve in further Months –
And Years – exhale in Years –

Without Debate – or Pause –
Or Celebrated Days –
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Dominies –