Ghost-like Heart

Ghost-like Heart

Pull the shredded curtains back on this regretful past.
When I was dying inside you made this hollow boy laugh. 
You gave me something to believe in when I hated my true self.
So I’m left with your smiling pictures and these self-inflicted welts...

So smile at me like you care. Stare and remember what we shared.
You’re a female (so complex.) I loved you more but you loved sex.

And you would have loved her, this mother fucker, but she’s already the ghost inside my head.
........you would have loved her, this mother fucker, but she’s already the ghost inside my head.

I took that picture down to no longer look up at your face. For once I bury your memories in the ground, I’ll plant a flower in your place. And when it blooms to fruition I hope you feel like a disgrace as you watch me trample on the gardens we grew on those wishful days.  

I really wish you well- at your matrimony in the fires of hell, you succubus...You destroyed ‘US.’
And if an angel appears to save you. No, it won’t be me! I did my time! The rapture will take you- for all eternity...
I really wish you well- at your matrimony in the fires of hell, you succubus...You destroyed ‘US.’
Locked inside ‘what could have been’, your eyes couldn’t see. Alone, my feelings couldn’t stop you, from scraping down my heart like a harpy...like a harpy...like a harpy.

Laying in my deathbed while my broken mind reflects. I hope you never resurrect, you perfect human wretch. Pulling on my heartstrings like this was a childish game. I lost the natural will to live, but I didn’t lose my shame. You lost your dad and sister but what’s that gonna change, you’re a walking martyr of destruction that yearns to feel the pain. I padded our memories in the ground- hoping you would forever sleep. Don’t EVER find your way back to me...For my ghost-like heart is just too weak.  

(I know you said ‘forever’ but you really meant ‘for now.’ If you let me back inside your heart, I’ll kill it somehow...)

-Brandon Defiance

Guillotine Necromancy

Guillotine Necromancy

Pipe organs play in your sedating ways.

The church outside has fell before a murderous craze.

Go back to sleep, my sweet one. 

The crucifix is too deep, for weak ones.

(How long will God let them *whispers* ...stray?)

They died by witchcraft banter that was only aids and cancer.

They pointed at elder creeps and circus freaks...But did not suspect the necromancer.

He walked inside their shadows as the priest prepared the gallows.

The guillotine chopped off screaming heads.The villagers, unaware of the magic it fed.

Necro Man, Necro Man, See. Blinded by the light of what he used to be.

He stitched their heads back on and set the victims free.

With the help of his dark magic, the town would soon be ZOMBIES! 

(...soon be zombies) (...soon be zombies) (...soon be zombies) (...soon be zombies)

The church graveyard was an elevator for unsatisfied souls... 

that crawled and hungered for the flesh of religious mortals.

Guillotine Necromancer. If life is the question. Death is the answer.

He hosts a red masquerade for the dead to dance,takes their beautiful heads,

and participates in a necrophilia romance.

“Play the piano slowly for me. Slide your dead finger across every key.

Bloody lady, my warm heart is beating. So stop with your promiscuous dead girl teasing.

While cradling our daughter’s severed head like treasure, let’s descend in this coffin and disappear forever.”

Necro Man, Necro Man, See. Blinded by the light of Christianity.

His eyes reflected back the flames of alchemy.

He found his wife and daughter but they were dead and rotting...

9/5/12: Without

     Today I went to McDonald's for breakfast. I thought it would be a good morning to sit at the park and eat while the wind wisped through my car windows. As the sun got hotter, I realized I couldn't nap with my carseat reclined back. I was too paranoid that someone would mug me. So right after I ate 2 sausage and biscuits I drove to Mings Chinese Restaurant. It's the first time that I have ever went to a Chinese restaurant alone. I watched each person come in with somebody, a friend or a lover. And I looked across the table at the invisible person that wasn't really sitting before me. I felt really alone and as much as I pretended that my imaginary girlfriend was just getting food up there, I began to feel more ridiculously stupid.

     I watched a man and his young son sit down across from me. His kid wouldn't quit making funny noises while I ate. It was entertaining. The baby wanted to stand beside his dad while he ate. The boy had blonde hair and resembled what I looked like when I was a baby. It made me realize how without I am. I want all of these things. Kids. A Family. A significant other. Success. I could be doing my math homework right now, but I feel that this feeling it too urgent not to write down.

     Life is really hard, and just yesterday I said to myself that I wouldn't reproduce a kid that would be teased and feel alone as I have felt, but maybe things can be different. Maybe I could help guide a kid, my kid, and be its best friend. If I'm going to continue living, it would help fill the void in my heart to feel needed. I've just always wanted to feel needed and wanted in a place where I could belong in society. Some of the people around me still don't get it. Brandon chases after the things that he wants and if he hasn't started the chase he most likely never will. Everything in my life is achieved through feelings and if feelings didn't lead me to a part in my life, I'm on the wrong path. Nothing is forced with me. I will wait until eternity to to get the things I want in the ways I want to acquire them. I don't settle for anyting less than what I think that I deserve. That's why I've been single for a year. I would just rather feel without...

                                                                                                                                                                              

-Brandon Defiance

Red Rum (Dead!)

RED RUM (DEAD!)

I’m the last one that you would save. Motives as sick as the bubonic plague. Come with me, I will rot your brains like cyanide-dipped candy canes.

Meth-needle candy apples were a hit at the core. Want any more confessions, priest? I have ten fucking more. While you were sleeping- counting sheep up in your ‘holy’ bed, I remodeled your house of worship as my CARNIVAL FOR THE LIVING DEAD...(Dead, Dead, Dead, Dead.)

Pop a balloon, infected blood will splash in the wound. Spin the prize wheel, hear the victim squealing for something relieving. Death, the escape for a hostage in pain. Love, the willing rape of a lion who’s been tamed.. Suffocation, a vacation from this biblical mess, let’s put the anguished ones’ souls to rest....

The Clown: “So remember the front row, Andy and his abusive mum? Well, I believe that Mrs. Parker is dead and gone!”

The Priest: “...What did you do to her!!?” ...*Long, devastating scream*

The Clown: “Well, she is Dead, Dead, Dead. She is Dead, Already. Dead, Dead, Dead, She is Dead, Already. We’re stupid and dumb and we like to have fun, so surrender your lips and sip my red rum...My red rum...(Murder)...My red rum....”

The house of God encased in flesh. A pornographic twisted mess. Human limbs stretched backwards just to test what perversions the human stomach can digest. 

The Clown: "And you would love to play the game, but fuck it, you are all the same. And all the same and all the same and, Fuck it, you are all the same and all the same and all the same and... I have laid out the road to hell for you, babe. These visions are too haunting for even Jesus to save. Lay down your book and be my personal slave, I’ll let your mother live, if you behave.”


The Priest: “Talk to me, mutter!!!”

The Clown: “Well, she is Dead, Dead, Dead. She is Dead, Already. Dead, Dead, Dead, She is Dead, Already. We’re stupid and dumb and we like to have fun, so surrender your lips and sip my red rum...My red rum. (Murder)...We’re stupid and dumb and we like to have fun so surrender your lips and sip my red rum...(Murder)...My red rum...(Murder)...My red rum...”

A Dip into the Abyss

“If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.” 
-Friedrich Nietzsche


A Dip into the Abyss

Hills of used needles pile by my feet. I’ve been awake for too long and I cannot sleep. I tried to distort this bitter reality. I gazed into the water, but I didn’t see me. “One last kiss” the vampires hissed as they caressed down my neck- with foreign lips my blood they sipped like horny insects.
For leaving behind this tortured life had become my ever-dying wish. I knew I was about to take- a dip into the abyss.

So let’s drink to a hellish world that made this shell of a man. And why these years have left me, I will never understand. My vision began to blacken as I drank its water with these worn-out hands. A voice rumbled inside of me, “Come right in, faithless human...Rather be in here than out there in that age of confusion, where your life is one riddle with no subtle conclusion. While gazing in my dark ripples, I felt that you were losing, so drown deeply into my hallucinogen (narcotic of illusion).”

While reviewing my past life before the black reflection of this pool, that voice could have been deception trying to play me as a fool. But it’s too late for me to turn around and be punished as a mortal. I will take you up on your proposition, sir, inside this oblivious portal. So say goodbye to a God that has never appeared. So say goodbye to a devil that I never feared. Why be frightened of monsters creeping underneath your bed when all the real monsters are tucked away inside your head?

Skeletons of yesterday’s acquaintances are all that remain. This ravenous beast has long been unchained. The witch’s spell has been erased in all my memories, and now I use her suffering as a means of artillery. I’ve been fed the acidic taste of your regret and now its time to spit it- where it belongs. The muses conceal the bruises. Belongingness is a permanence. So I would be concerned about your existence, cry-st or saint-an. No one has appreciated life without being impaled by the thorns of  the iron maiden.



                -Brandon Defiance

Picture Perfect Organisms

Picture Perfect Organisms

Picture-perfect friends, help me out. I’m having a break down. Break, break, break, break their fucking hands off- they would love to touch something artificially nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing worth all of this? Nothing worth all you? Trapped in a fucking bliss. I would love to haunt you. I would love to ‘become’ you. Let’s take a perfect picture, friends. Shake the Polaroid, let the faded colors seep in. I would love to remember something that we couldn’t forget and that smile that never wasn’t. Wasn’t, Wasn’t your whole life a mistake? Wasn’t Wasn’t Wasn’t your family ashamed? The drugs helped conceive you, love was the disguise- that hid all the truths and the untold lies. Hand me a pill that I would love to crush up and snort the powder to get the rush. Rushing, Rushing, Rushing into a life, a trap? Love is the deception, and you can’t get out. (And you can’t get out.) 


Read the twisted bible, continue the cycle and name the mistake, watch your kid walk down the halls while the picture-perfects annihilate, everything that you made him become. Come, Come, Come, Come to the kid’s funeral. He’s been dead inside and he isn’t tamed. And his body crawls for another’s brain...Brain!...Brain!...Your anatomy is inevitably flawed. As I feed the stomach, this demanding organism, I can feel them judging it, I think I’m with them. Apply the makeup cause you're already fucked up. Gene-splicing for puzzle-makers. I have tickets for my downfall, any takers? Scientists try to recreate love from a cell, but  I can already  tell you you’re gonna burn in hell, if you stay in this town. If you stay in this town, you’ll at least burn in heaven. I have one ticket to win it and one ticket to end it. Your insufficient to this place. Unnoticeable and forgettable to most, but you have a pretty face. Write the stories they will never read, it keeps you stable, even though your will to live is weak..

The Baby

The Baby

In the beginning, there were these children that didn't know the difference from right and wrong. As they grew older, they acknowledged sinning, they had an addiction, all along. They wanted to feed it, this hungry fetus. It never wanted. Just always needed. It was growing inside them. They couldn’t defeat it. Considered abortion. They tried to beat it. Beat it!

And one dark day they forfeit to fight, which brought the unborn fetus back to life. It was full of vengeance. Hatred dripped from its eyes while they glowed vermillion red in the darkness of night (night, night.)

It screamed for power. You fed its hunger which made it stronger than this time before. Your growing weaker than a preacher who had his demons waging wars in’store.

Waging wars in’store.

Can you see the hurt within your kids? Being their sole destroyer of happiness.
Are you feeling used when hiding the bruise? A needled zombie with broken virtues.
Can you see the hurt within your kids? A parent leading a life of nothingness.
Are you feeling used when hiding the bruise? Grab the umbilical cord and cut that bastard loose.

I love you so much, but you can’t see that I’m not enough to kill the baby.
You love me so much, but I can’t free your polluted mind and toxic body.

And one dark night she said unto me when she expresses love, it kicks back with jealousy.
Her body aches with an ever-waking need to inject the vein and feed it regrettably.
Every night that she falls asleep the fetus crawls back beneath her sheets.
I awoke last night from a hopeful dream that she was finally clean for me.

That she was finally clean for me.

The puppeteer should choke on the strings, but fairy tales have truer endings.
Sweetie, It’s just me and some nurse ladies. I’ll hold your hand through the suffering, but the aborted fetus keeps eating your babies.

I love you so much, but you can’t see that I’m not enough to kill the baby.
You love me so much, but I can’t free your diluted mind and toxic body.

The puppeteer should choke on the strings, but fairy tales have truer endings.
Sweetie, It’s just me and some nurse ladies. I’ll hold your hand through the suffering, but the aborted fetus keeps eating your babies... keeps eating your babies...keeps eating your babies...

Black Tuesday

Suicides beneath gray skies. Inside the houses where the babies cry.
Starving on dreams on this lonely, black Tuesday. (I think it is today. (I think) I think it is today.)

Funnel clouds roaring way up high over littered streets where the homeless hide.
Silent, like someone important died. We’re just starving on dreams on this lonely, black Tuesday.
(I think it is today. (I think) I think it is today...There’s nowhere to pray...There’s nowhere to pray...)

I figured out the world...I’m a troubled adolescent....Is there any reason to survive?
‘Cause we are living in a great depression...
I found true love...I learned all of its lessons...Is there any reason to survive?
We, the children of a great depression...(press on)

So, repress my love for you, Scarlet. You were my biggest sin, harlot. There could be nothing quite more tragic than to bleed in the streets...like a fucking American...like a fucking American...(A product of the depression.)

Screechy windmills twirling in the night over cracking earth, overused and dry. Dust storms taking our kids from sight. We’re just starving on dreams on this lonely, black Tuesday.
How could the market crash this way? We lost all faith in our currency. In God we trust became a God of hate that severed our souls and caused this heartache.

And It wouldn’t matter who you are, JFK or FDR. These times are changing, changing who you ARE...These times are changing who you ARE... These times are changing you into who you aren’t...(Who will win the next election? My brain is froze, memories in repression. Burn your enemies in a homemade cremation and sell their remains to an organ donation.)

I figured out the world...I’m a troubled adolescent...Is there any reason to survive?
‘Cause we are living in a great depression...
I found true love...I learned all of its lessons...Is there any reason to survive?
We, the children of a great depression...(press on)

So, repress my love for you, Scarlet. You were my biggest sin, harlot. There could be nothing quite more tragic than to bleed in the streets...like a fucking American...like a fucking American....like a fucking American...

You're Whole Life's A Story

Your Whole Life's A Story

Look at the boy that doesn’t SPEAK! Stands all alone and he is so WEAK! Born with the wrong SEXUALITY! A cute physique, YET HE FEELS SO UGLY!

Inside his heart. Inside his head. Will his life start? He wants to be dead.

Inside his heart. Inside his head. Will his life start? He wants to be dead.

Beneath the sheets of his cozy bed, he’s lost in a labyrinth inside of his head.

The people around him tear the boy apart. There’s a void inside his...reality-lost heart...Yeah!

Will the world ever accept his complex breed? Yeah! Doesn’t talk loud enough. Won’t ever feel complete. Yeah! The enemy wants to accept a simple defeat, but some fallen rise up FROM THE DEBRIS!

Your whole life’s a story. You can’t accept reality. Well, Look who’s coming out now.

(Look who’s coming out.)

Mister ‘You’re whole life’s a story’ knows that leeches are not worthy. Well, look who’s going down now- to fill the pages of history.

Inside the sun. Inside the moon. He seeks for answers straight from her womb.

Inside the sun. Inside the moon. He seeks for answers straight to his tomb.

Locked inside his gloomy room, no one can save him from his doom.

Only allowed to speak to kin, wasn’t allowed to make any new friends...Yeah!

He could have given up at least a thousand times. Yeah! Became one with the shadows and it breathed in him new life. Yeah! Grasped the handle of the shiny knife. Pointed it at the earth and yelled, “this world will be mine!...this world will be mine!...this world will be mine!”

(And they told him:)

“You’re whole life’s a story. You can’t accept reality.”

(And I said:)

“Well, Look who’s coming out now. (Look who’s coming out.)

Mister ‘Your whole life’s a story’ will claim all of the glory. Looks who’s going down now...(look who’s going down) - to fill the pages of history. (to fill the pages of his story...to fill the pages of his story.”)

Circuit Board Brains

Circuit Board Brains (Adventures of Allison)

Circuit board brains, They’re all the same. Identical models, synced together to think.
They were built with intentions to be forever tamed, but some wires cross while other wires flame. Humanoid androids love to pray to a robot god built with x-ray.
Machines will crash and others outdate, but all versions are capable to upgrade...Yeah!
(...to think the same.) Upgrade complete! Downgrade, defeat! Brainwash, delete!

I gazed into her subtle eyes and deciphered the digits, one and zero. If earth is the mainframe for a digital hell, then how come I feel I’m in the digital limbo? Her Religion was binary code, Allison’s frequency and remote control. Her circuit board brain and password-protected soul were gun-vermin-t property, and not her own (own, own.)

Loneliness, the fragrance of the homo sapiens. They want a war, but they need to fight. They need some recognition...They want some hope, but they need some brains. They need a new Religion...They want some change, but they need direction. They need a brand new vision...Because we are all part of this unsecured, network infrastructure. Like cattle, we are tracked in life by a series of barcode numbers. We were all scanned in at the beginning, and as depressing as it seems, if you don’t make a name for yourself, you’re just a digit that’s diminishing.

They said, If you’re feminine, you should be a woman, and if you’re masculine, you should be a man. Be born with the right parts because love is the illusion. If you’re a rejection, your just one of God’s failed (sin)sation(s.)

Well, I’m not...a bigot robot whose screws are tightly drilled inside. I’m not... a cloned copy. I am genuinely alive...I want to warn you, Allison, about their preprogramed design.
Yes! Fear is their most effective invention. Yes, they sneer because their blind.
...And these machines need you for a good validation- to ensure that they are right.
...And these machines need you for a good brainwashing. Their ‘love’ gratifies.

Don’t listen, Allison, they want to scramble your mind. Their core is infected and their laser eye is blind (blind, blind.) We are malfunctions that don’t respond to a button. They told us to repent. The viral Armageddon’s coming!!! They wanna erase any waking memory of me. You’re not even a sect of their distorted frequencies. If they abduct you on your ploy to escape, a grenade sleeps in your heart, just pull the pin and DETONATE...JUST DETONATE!!! (There no reason for a rusty robot to pray) A grenade sleeps in your heart, just pull the pin and DETONATE...JUST DETONATE....JUST...DETONATE...