Killing me

I don't have a death wish...and I'm not dyin' yet.  
Have you ever noticed how versatile these two words are?...Killing Me.  
-My back is killing me-Denotes pain.  
-Stop it,you're killing me-You're one funny asshole.  
-Cigarettes are killing me-Recognition of a doom,self inflicted.  
-These kids are killing me-Mild annoyance,or so much love you'd die for them.  
-This insomnia is killing me-Discomfort.  
-The anticipation is killing me-Eager impatience,to the point of sickness.  
Finally,  
-Life is killing me-Desperation,disappointment.  
You can usually tell what it means.  
I say it all the time,lately.  
I don't know if I'd share an explanation.  
Some sayings are secret sauce.  
Spread'em  
on some toast and    
eat'em up.  
Figure out for yourself,what it all means.  
Digest and process the message within.  
Is the truth you find,the one that's killing you?  
Or is it the truth of my own demise?  
Sometimes things lose their function.  
Things get broken...repaired...broken.  
After awhile they're just broke.  
You just can't fix them anymore..the shot to the gut of the optimistic,yet overwhelmed tinkerer.  
A loss that is surely killing him...just as much as the constant upkeep did.  
Don't ponder it for long.  
It could mean anything.  
Sometimes it means everything.