Once in my life, I wanted to be a fighter pilot. Not really to serve but “reasons.” I don’t blame people for not counting on me. I can’t trust myself. But to not be a good enough son or especially a father because I’ll “F Up.” A Mom’s B Leaving.
Wednesday, May 12, 2021
Gospel 315 ~A Mom’s B Leaving~
Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I know it won’t be because of puns. Hell, I’ll take care of my mom.
Did that sound “sinister,” Inspector? You know what I mean, but I wasn’t even able to look after B III. It’s why he’s on the nightstand and not on the bed. I was saying today, May 8… yes, it’s going to be a bad week; I was thinking of that song “You Were Loved,” yep. Like mother like son, I guess. My Ma’s a big fan of Whitney Houston. While I can’t say I am, this song has made it onto my playlist for B III. Well, that is until the fucking ASM took it away from me. Should I be ashamed I’m still going on about that meathead bastard? Anyway, there is one verse that keeps playing between Charlie Brown’s language and my RAGE.
“When somebody cares that you’re alive
When somebody trusts you with their life.”
You Were Loved by Whitney Houston
My Ma doesn’t trust me. I’m always one to be direct, like saying I killed Braxton. Let me share a story with you. One night, still living with My Olds in my late twenties… another part of my shame? Okay, it’s late enough that Braxton stayed within his comfy spot. Strangely enough, my Ma comes downstairs and leaves. She didn’t say a word, only she hopped in the car and drove away. I figured something happened to my “father’s” truck, and she went to pick him up or something. In the morning, I found out she thought she was having a heart attack and drove to the nearby fire station for help. She could have died, but she didn’t trust me enough to say “HELP.”
Now I could play it as her wanting to protect me. A mother protects her kids, and she didn’t want me to see her like that. But something happened at the Day Job, and um, I have two words for you “short bus.” We’ll get into that at some point, but yep Ma and B. Ma knew I’d fuck up.
Does Braxton feel the same way? Every Wednesday, I remember him crying, and I ignored him, and come Thursday, it was as if he’d gotten over it. I have admired his strength over those last days, but no Inspector Echo. He knew his Daddy couldn’t make it better, but he had to save himself. Braxton didn’t fail; I did. Fuck up. A Mom’s B Leaving
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,