What else could I possibly think of

We were all doomed I thought
But of course it was not exactly right
The nature around bloomed
But I forgot it even mattered
I believed the world would broom us away

Maybe that’s how depression starts
You start thinking you’re a tool and
You will be used and thrown out
As simple as it is
I thought

The world seemed to me like a huge swimming pool
Where the level of water was too low to swim
But too high to dry out completely
It was dirty and there were lots of dead corpses
Of flies.

My reality at that time was literally a piece of wool
Turfed out from the city streets by the angry wind of fate
and beliefs
We were all about to die soon
I thought
Our bodies would be hidden in a huge communal tomb
Together with our depressive thoughts
I thought

And then I woke up