Fractured

Like sitting in front of Snoopy's doghouse
with the vulture looming,
or greenish sky 'neath towering thunderhead,
or Damocles reclining beneath the sword
held up by a fraying thread--
an oppressive force is mustering.

Could blame it on the weather
or holes in the sun firing gamma rays earthward
or, perhaps, timeclocks have ticked up
but
it seems like so many people I know
have died recently. Not old, all
or sick. Dropping in their tracks
without notice or a goodbye or final hug.

My heart was shattered at the first,
I thought, until four more heard the knell
and now, yet another, today. I'd have thought
one could run out of tears.
Apparently not.

I'm so cold.
Icicles typing--fingers feel as if
they should fracture.
I am composed of fractils
multiplying
at an uncanny rate,
spilling, splashing,
bleeding colors that don't match
or have any
rhyme or reason.

Want to wrap
everyone I know
in cotton batting. Want to stop
bawling my eyes out.
Want that 'I've cried too much'
headache to go elsewhere.
Not even Excedrine is working.

I'm the one that handles things
while everyone else falls apart.
I am scattered on the floor.
My internal magnet's poles have reversed
and the harder I try to
pull it all together,
the more the pieces slide away.

Have errands I can't cancel.
Grey day even though the sun is shining.
Perfect for the
invisible duct tape I'll be wearing.
Have to keep it all together
somehow.

Turning on
autometron.
I'll be the robotic one
smiling and nodding;
no feelings--
Emotions frozen solid
lest I continue to leak.