Fuzz Lines of Time

There was a time when she was so unsure, so upright, so unlikely to be undone.
There was a time when time clicked at a normal speed and she paid no attention to it.
There was a time she let it all go, into the night, up into the morning, gone.
It left her quickly and she realized the painful beauty of time.
She befriended
and scolded it's audacity towards her.
She hadn't realized it's capabilities until she started dousing her entire life.
The fuzzy lines of time, making her fuzzy.
Smoking cigarettes, slowly watching them ash, carefully holding onto their lengths.
Clicking her tongue,
like ruby slippers, hoping for a solemn escape.
Time revealing it's true colours to her in events not so colourful.
Accidents and heartbreaks, heart attacks and incidents all reeling her into more.
She tried to speed up through the bad.
Slow down through the good.
She realized the hurriedness of time in her fun.
The slowness of time during her agony.
She couldn't deal with the time bomb of her life slowly clicking it's serpent's tongue in front of you.
She decided she wouldn't let the fuzz get her.
She decided to end her time.
She sliced the roped connected to it quickly and in those final seconds of her itching breathe.
She realized time had won.
It was still with her until the end.
She had won nothing.
Lost everything.
Gained silence.
A stand still.
Waiting for time to pick her up on a different platform, in a different time zone.