losing control

outside wondering
outside of reality
outside of make believe 
I found myself dead
killed long ago
by me 
I cannot kill myself now
I lack the will
I lack control

I hear voices, in the future: "That is a very sad existential poem. Are you ok?"

I'm ok
the poem is a metaphor

"A metaphor for what? Please explain. I'm worried about you."

I'm not sure what it means exactly

"Listen, you should see someone. Feel free to call me anytime. We love you!"

I know you love me

we died long ago
we killed ourselves 
we cannot kill ourselves now
we lack the will
we lack control

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