Contradicting Millions

Everything is too simple. Nothing is the way it seems. It has gotten to the point where I can't even think. Constant dreams of ruthless killings. Beatings, screaming, bloody murder. Shall I take this any further? The sun will eventually rise and interrupt this restless sleep, opening my eyes to this distastfully dull world, where smiles are faked for sad little girls. It is all too bland. It makes me desire that hellacious sleep. Even if there is no rest to grasp, it still produces better memories than these to keep. I'm tired for lost love. I'm tired for brainless adolesence. I'm tired for pointless empty worries and cries so silent. Sinking deep into the sands of time. Insides burning with the most meaningless pitiful rage. Difficult to fake a smile for someone you have such a great desire to ruthlessly murder. Hanging upside down, blood pouring. There throats are mangled by the blade of sweet serenades. Seraded edges caked in flesh. The images are becoming too vivid. World crashing. Upping. Downing. Dragging heels with a brain of mush. Feel the rush of scarlet to the surface of your skin. And addiction to that warmth on each fingertip. Insanity, what used to be just a word has become a reality. Praymantises scraping at the insides of your skull, while the grims fairies dance beneath your epidermis. Walls keeping the world out have dissolved. Filters broken. Words flowing which used to never be spoken. An internal conflict, each side battling it out. But there isn't sides. There's millions. Contradiction millions.