Tag: Bed

Journey 028 ~High Braxton, Hi Virgil~

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If I get too high, I’ll have no air. If I stay in my blood, ‘sweat’ and tears, I’ll drown. How dare I ask a girl to “Follow Me?” Better to be Uncle Kracker or Uncle/Dirty Harry than a MAGA Cracker Hat. My boys are better men. High Braxton, Hi Virgil.

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

Journey 028 ~High Braxton, Hi Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Can I say that without crying? I don’t want to look at myself. The time…

Hell! “Everyday Day Is Exactly The Same,” Sunday, January 31, 2021, to be precise, love. The day my honest to God… (God? Honest? Ha!) Anyway, the day that love died. Honestly, my Braxton hasn’t moved from the table in the vet’s office, the top of my nightstand, or the tippy top of my mind in four years. Again, 1640 days to be accurate, give or take a few hours. And what could I be doing in “These Final Hours,” beloved?

Trying to remember our wedding day? Dangerous words, right? I cried then and now. A trick of Braxton’s Favorite Girl. She told me that if her man wasn’t crying when she walked down the aisle, she was going back up. UP, higher ground, high ground…

What am I angling for? A movie night with you? To be “Drowning in your love.” Damn, Csapunch (Chrissy Allen) and her trip to see the Backstreet Boys. One more reason my eyes are all watery. I’ll burn my eyes out of my skull with all the social media BS.

Distractions. Like all these movies. “UP” shows us a ‘happy’ life in the first few minutes. The fanfare of all these apocalyptic movies, where the good guys always survive, my love. And the high ground… If you didn’t know that was a Star Wars reference, we wouldn’t be married. A few steps below my boys, Braxton and Virgil. Then our two-legged children, don’t talk badly about Star Wars. Why am I up in the clouds?

I think I’m higher than that. And that’s why I’m looking up. Would my head explode in space? How do I explain to you what’s happening to me, my love? My heart is bleeding and broken in this “Mad Season.” This “Cruel Summer,” with my “Summertime Sadness,” baby girl. And fearing I might drown from it all, the flood, I am seeking higher ground. Like “B.o.B.” I’m looking at “Airplanes” for a wish. My B is up there, and so I “get higher, baby, and don’t ever come down!” I’m not on drugs, but I feel like I could die.

How do I “Even” it out like Julien Baker sings about? Sometimes, all I need is “The Air That I Breathe.” High Braxton, Hi Virgil.

“Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe.
And to love you
All I need is the air that I breathe.
Yes, to love you”
― The Hollies

1640 Days Without B III, Day 1081 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 021 ~Homes For B, Virgil~

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I was supposed to buy a big yard for B. I don’t know how Virgil feels about living here. And myself? I’m looking for a box, or to go up to space. This rock’s annoying. “Too many men, too many people, making too many problems.” Yet Homes For B, Virgil

Tuesday, July 22, 2025

Journey 021 ~Homes For B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And if you’re a fan of Christmas. Well, that’s one more thing to apologize for.

I swear I almost started our conversation with “I’ll B Home,” which goes all the way back to Tale 066 ~ I’ll B Home Virgil~ on Tuesday, September 5, 2023, to be precise. Everything in its place, My Love. So why am I sitting here this afternoon listening to this monstrosity?

“I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” Effing Christmas In July! Effing Hallmark Channel! Or was it QVC? Whatever! This is what happens when your poor excuse for a husband is sitting on his ass “writing” about my euthanized son. Make it plain. Braxton is gone. And Virgil is sitting on his pillow wanting some attention. “But you don’t look ashamed, and baby, I’m not scared.” I wish I could sing that. I wish it were true.

I wouldn’t be surprised if you were ashamed of me. And honestly, I’m effing terrified.

“FEAR does not exist in this dojo!” Only it’s not that. This is our home. And it’s not you that’s following me. “Follow Me.” Where to? No, it’s my Braxton who followed me for fifteen years. And on Sunday, January 31, 2021, he decided to follow me for four more years and then some.

I’m not effing MAGA! I’m not an effing Cracker Hat! And me as President… Seriously!

My Love, I want to be a good husband, father, if anything, Just A Man. But I have no place.

Where do my furry sons go? My sins. And what about my “sausage.” Sorry, I’m both hungry and horny. It’s been a long day, baby.

I’m trying to make space. I’m trying to “Hold Space” as in “The Book of Clarence.” Am I ever going to get off of this loveseat? For you, my Sputnik, my crazy Satellite Girl, anything.

I’m not one for cutesy nicknames. But that song from Jerry Engler and the Four Ekkos does it for me. Yeah, it was lying with you on a Sunday Morning that led to me ‘filling you up’. Next thing we know, we need a bigger house to make a home for all of Braxton and Virgil’s two-legged siblings. But what else needs a home? Money? Not much of that left. Making room in my heart for more Love. You, our children. I’m big, small, nothing.

Homeless. Homes For B, Virgil.

“Welcome to my world (welcome to my world)
Welcome to my only world (my only world)
It is full of space junk
But your words are coming through
I’m riding on the space junk
And it’s bringing me to you.”

1633 Days Without B III, Day 1074 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 014 ~Braxton’s The Bar, Virgil~

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It’s not some “Summertime Sadness…” (Cherry would appreciate this.) And I would say it’s a “Cruel Summer…” (Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom will visit in the Winter). Anyway, Hell seems to be full-time. But ice water? Braxton’s The Bar, Virgil

Tuesday, July 15, 2025

Journey 014 ~Braxton’s The Bar, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I tell you that all the time. Braxton. Virgil? Our two-legged kids. But a drink.

I could use a drink. No! “I could really use a wish right now.” There are plenty of “Airplanes” in the night sky. Or there will be with Effing MAGA in charge. But FDT, two times! Besides, I don’t want to talk about the Epstein List. We, being parents, Love.

Today I have you, my beautiful wife. There’s Braxton. There will always be Braxton, as he told me yesterday, “You’ll Be In My Heart” from the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, wherever.

I checked Virgil, who seems to be bug-free. Maybe a few bites, but nothing I can see to pull off. And speaking of pulling things off. Being a good dad to our two-legged kids. Trying.

With all my blessings, I wish I could stop crying.

Oh No, “My Love!” These aren’t happy tears. Not like the Sia song from The Twilight Saga: Eclipse. If anything, the tears help wash off the blood of my firstborn furry son. But I wasn’t crying for Braxton. Not today.

Would that make it better? I had around seventy days just for that after he died. As I worked on Braxton’s novel, I was reminded of the Assistant Store Manager. Eff that guy! Effing meathead. Anyway, he moved me from the Denial stage to Anger. Freaking Vampire, Zombie, Effing TICK! A parasite is what I am. Maybe I’ll catch something and join Little B III.

Enough bites to bleed out. But “I just-just got-to-got-to-got-to” keep the blood pumping, don’t I? I’m saving Virgil, I love you, and a man provides.

“Here Comes Success.” I should toast to it. But then I wouldn’t remember. Forgetfulness and Ignorance. Joy and Pain, as Frankie Beverly sings on. Did you know? I didn’t, Love.

You didn’t know I would be such a crybaby who sweats bullets, bleeds for my boys. And my sexual appetite. I wish I could keep it in my pants. Have you looked in a mirror?

“Because maybe. You’re gonna be the one that saves me. And after all. You’re my wonderwall,” thank you, Ryan Adams. But seriously, “My Love,” “Remember when we first met. And everything was still a bet, in Love’s game. SIGH, I spit out songs. Filling you up, sweating for THEM, crying for B. I’m left. A desert. Braxton’s The Bar, Virgil.

1626 Days Without B III, Day 1067 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 007 ~Virgil, Tune Of B~

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This ends week one on this Journey. What do I have to say? I’d rather say nothing. But M Anime and I are tempting each other. Braxton says nothing because he’s still dead, and I’m not writing. What’s in Virgil’s little head? “Virgil, Tune Of B.”

Tuesday, July 8, 2025

Journey 007 ~Virgil, Tune Of B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But will we skip a “Love Song” today or two? You know me too well.

My ears hurt. Well, my head hurts. Trust me, I know when something’s wrong with my ears. I still hear the silence my firstborn son left behind. Is it scary that I’d joined B III? “Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, if you ever need me, I’ll be there.” A blood oath to my son. More like Bloodsport. But as much as I want to lie here and watch movies with you, My Love, there is a reason we’re speaking early this Monday, July 7, 2025, 3:00 PM.

Beloved, “Any Time, Any Place.” Dancing with you to Janet Jackson vs me crying over Braxton. That’s a whole other conversation. Not that I would ever deny you, My Love. Today, I would deny myself. “Feeling super, super (super!) su*cidal.”

If I don’t tell you, who would I tell? “Well, I feel STUPID. But it’s something that comes and goes.” I haven’t been good over the last couple of weeks on this Journey we call life. “Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today. To get through this thing called life.”

The more I try to cut the music off, the more that comes through. There is too much noise, My Love. I can handle the smell of replacing Virgil Vivi’s potty/training spot. In and out.

They call that breathing. And I can’t stand the sound of me breathing at all. What about the silent tears coursing down my face? It’s either Braxton or my exhaustion. And effing technology! Every beep and boop has me jumping.

Fireworks. They annoy V and B. They explode by the house. I’m ain’t “Never Scared.”

But the noise. Not at all like your pillow talk. Or should I go ahead and say your dirty talk? And the sounds your mouth makes when you’re doing other things, to me… For me. Your moans, whispers, cries, and screams. It’s like I’m John Seed, The Power of YES. It’s your heartbeat I care about, your breathing. When I know you’re going to explode.

So I won’t go getting “Tired Of You.” I’m tired of myself. I want to quit crying over Braxton sometimes. Or listening to Virgil’s munching and crying about whatever’s wrong with his eating. I want to quit digging my own grave. Virgil, Tune Of B

1619 Days Without B III, Day 1060 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 365 ~The B-Vs of Anniversaries~

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Happy Anniversary. Should I say that today or tomorrow? And what will tomorrow be? No more Meditations. I’m headed into my ninth year. I’m trying to get Virgil to five. His food’s here. No one’s stopping him. Love is here. “The B-Vs of Anniversaries”

Tuesday, July 1, 2025

Meditation 365 ~The B-Vs of Anniversaries~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And when is our anniversary again? Do I have a Deathwish? I plead the 5th.

I didn’t want to start today, of all days, like this, my love. Sounding like MAGA. Eff MAGA always and forever. And FDT! But what about today? Meditation 365, beloved.

“Anniversary.” Who am I, Tony? Toni! Toné? I’ve been writing for going on 9 years. I can’t answer this question. Who am I? Your husband, lover, best friend. “My Love”

Where Is My Mind? We have our family. Our children. Two-legged ones at that. Dogdad? For my boys, Braxton and Virgil. “Always and Forever” Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night.” Always and Forever. And can we talk about this “Heatwave”? Hmm.

No, because I Just Can’t Stop Loving You. You’re mine. But my mind. Virgil’s mind. That’s where I am today.

Oh, and not looking in the mirror? I can’t tell you I’ll ever be one for a tux or any black-tie affair. Although black is my favorite color. And I’d always like to be ready for a funeral. In particular, my own. STOP IT! I hear you, baby doll; I really do. But speaking of dressing in black, what about my black skin? I took pictures of my “Enormous Pen*s.”

You know, as “Da Vinci’s Notebook” sings about. And while I’m pretty proud that my meat is murder… How many kids do we have now? I’m kidding. But I don’t understand how you can stand to look at me sometimes. I was walking with Virgil, and he looked so skinny yesterday. Like father, like son?

I have a heart after all to worry about him, so. And my soul is already condemned for B III. I won’t send Virgil to follow his Big Brother Braxton to the Rainbow Bridge. Which is why I was feeding him by hand last night. And there’s no Anniversary shenanigans.

Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels, Chronicles, Sagas, Tales, and finally Meditations. Honestly, what will the next year bring? “Tomorrow,” If I were famous like Salif Keita.

“Lovin’ is what I got.” And ain’t that Sublime. I promised you “All Of Me.” Mind, body, and soul. But my mind, besides everywhere else, has been with my boys. I was ashamed of my body, like Winston in 1984. And my soul is lost between “The B-V’s of Anniversaries.”

1612 Days Without B III, Day 1053 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 358 ~Virgil Takes Vitamin B~

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I wish I could afford an alcohol problem now. Hell, this morning, my lazy ass stayed in bed awhile and read about a girl sniffing Oxytocin. I want something to make me want to be awake or let me sleep. Sitting in the present as Virgil Takes Vitamin B

Tuesday, June 24, 2025

Meditation 358 ~Virgil Takes Vitamin B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Enough that my first question, besides “Beast of Burden,” is, what does Vitamin B do?

And there I go, thinking about “Special K,” sigh. She was my maid once upon a time. And she was the one who told me about Vitamin B. Did I mention I have a maid fetish, My Love? We’ll get to that. The Vitamin B I want to talk about is furry and has four legs. And often looked at me like, “Forget your troubles and just get happy.” “Get Happy.” My Love, I only want to be less afraid. “Be Not So Fearful.” Here are three fears I have:

  1. Braxton’s Death, Virgil’s Life
  2. My Old Man’s Birthday
  3. Whatever Norton Is Saying

And right behind these things:

  1. Losing You My Love
  2. Losing All Our Money
  3. The Loss Of America

FEAR is my energy source, My Love. Scare me enough, and I take action. Everything I did while my firstborn son Braxton lay dying. I should say he was on “The Long Walk” because he was ready to die on his feet. Anyway, I was rubbing his little brother Virgil’s belly, and I panicked when I saw a TICK so close to his eye that I “saved” him from, babe.

And now we have today. And eff Norton! Well, I would rather eff you, My Love. Besides wanting and needing your “Sexual Healing.” What else would help me be unafraid?

Speaking of Sinestro becoming my favorite villain in DC. Darth Vader in Star Wars, ha! Hulk is my hero. Anger. Tony Stark, Iron Man. Wealth.

Sickness? Eww! But I want to be sick. As if I can get everything bad out of my body. Love?

“Stay With Me. Cause you’re all I need.” We can sleep, we can have sex. And you know how I sin. Sadism. I was thinking about all my kinks. It’s effed up that I think of losing Braxton, which is the greatest pain I’ve ever known. Then, as Billy Ocean put it, ‘You wake up, and Suddenly you’re in love.” That’s me next to you, wanting to give a dose of Vitamin D. More like “I want to effing tear you apart” Why? I want to feel better. No son (Uh, Virgil, our other children…) No sun. Just your Love. While Virgil Takes Vitamin B.

1605 Days Without B III, Day 1046 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 351 ~That’s Virgil, B Afraid~

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How dare I? I love my sons. One’s a memory. The other made his way into the house and hasn’t “runnoft,” yet. He runs into the room like he’ll be abandoned. If it weren’t for them, their potential stepmom, and so on. I might… “That’s Virgil, B Afraid”

Tuesday, June 17, 2025

Meditation 351 ~That’s Virgil, B Afraid~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I don’t love myself, but I love you. What right do I have to love?

Braxton, point blank, period. My firstborn son, B, B III. Shall I continue? Always. Forever.

If I need define love, one word, his name, Braxton. And there you have it. As Kylie Minogue puts it, “Love at First Sight.” Hell, it was probably more for B III than me. Ha!

But Haddaway asks, “What Is Love?” Wrong or right today, here’s what I believe, beloved.

“I believe that love is the answer.” Blessid Union of Souls, seriously? Okay, honestly, love.

Love is the want, need, desire, ability, anything, and everything under the sun in Heaven and Hell to put someone ahead of yourself. I effing hate myself. But Dead or alive, I love Braxton. I love you, our children. And that’s Virgil, B Afraid.

Because I love that little MFer, too. Or at least I slipped up and said so when I figured I would die from embarrassment going to visit B’s Favorite girl and her wifey, she claimed. She claimed? Claim to love. “Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is a prize.”

Personally, I disagree with Avicii and Aloe Blacc. Love is a gift. I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it. If life is a game, then love is the instruction. Have you noticed games no longer come with those booklets? Everything is online. Don’t get me started on that.

Today, all I want to know is how to wake up with peace. That’s me loving me. To have it.

Soft d*ck and clear head.

Not with you, huh… I don’t mean that negatively, mind you. I’m always hot, horny, and hard for you, my love. And you’re always on my mind. This Year’s Love or more. “Sucker For Pain”

More kids jumping on the bed. Virgil is in a household full of kitties. B III being proud of me from Heaven above. God, give me more time, I don’t have to think about myself.

I’d rather it all be about you. You are an obsession; you’re my “Obsession.” And I can deal with being the man I want to be with you. Perverted, protector, maybe even a prince, hm?

“And there, my dear Fio, you make one of Womankind’s greatest mistakes: Falling in love with a man’s potential. We so rarely share the same view of it and even more rarely care to achieve it. Stop pining for the man you think I could be — and take a good, long, hard look at the one I am.”
Darkfever

But I’m a person, a monster who still wonders why and how you might love me. That’s Virgil, B Afraid.

1598 Days Without B III, Day 1039 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 344 ~B A Minute Virgil~

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I’m not a minuteman. No disrespect to the founders. While I’m here, FDT, eff the Jan 6’ers, eff Buzz Windrip and his Minute Men. Eff Article 5’s Moral Militia, and eff the NFFA. I’m a “Sixty Minute Man” for love. And my boys. “B A Minute Virgil”

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

Meditation 344 ~B A Minute Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I hope you do. Virgil doesn’t. I send him downstairs, but if I don’t follow.

Abandoned. Virgil feels as though I’ve abandoned him. Like father, like son. That’s 2-V, ha.

And he feels that at twenty-eight. Well, four. But in dog years, he’s in his twenties, so he’s, in fact, a man. And what, and I am forty? A man. Your man. Husband, a father.

Honestly, I want to be a Tru Rider… “A strong survivor, a real provider, a Tru Rider, that’s me.” Oh, you know I’ll go get a motorcycle and join up with the “Biker Boyz.” Hm.

And that’s what I feel like. A boy. I was thirty-six and bawling like a baby when I lost my firstborn son, Braxton. It’s been a minute. How many minutes have there been since Sunday, January 31, 2021. Math, baby…

That’s something I leave to you. I would be more than willing to live by Gus Fring’s word, “A Man Provides.” And I would work forever and a day to take care of our family.

There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about that. Being afraid. Every minute, every second. FEAR.

I don’t fear clocks or time. I fear I’m wrong that I’m to blame “The World Is Gonna End Tonight” or in the next five minutes. Do you remember when I told you that’s how I dealt with everything? In five minutes, nothing would matter, and I could let everything go.

“I ain’t got time, leave me alone
Ain’t that much time left
I’ve got to funk you now
Chronomentrophobia”
Chronomentrophobia

“Jeezu,” why can’t one of those things be FEAR? Our sons and daughters, sleep and sex, my love. Those moments, minutes, make me fearless.

And I lie here trying to believe tomorrow will be okay. Staind’s “Outside” is better. Beloved, music makes it better. Or at least I can’t hear everything that terrifies me.

Mornings spent here in our bed, love, reading on harems, humans, hellions, hot S&M sex.

Moaning along with you with every effing filthy, freaky fantasy that we can conjure up. Have I mentioned how much I love you? And that I’m happy you’re mine. Happiness…

Momentarily slip up. Me being happy. Ask me to “Be Not So Fearful.” Finding love.

“Be not so sorry for what you’ve done
You must forget them now; it’s done
And when you wake up, you will find that you can run
Be not so sorry for what you’ve done.”
― Be Not So Fearful

Memories of Braxton guarding me as I lie upon this old mattress. Awake and alive.

Making our children happy. Those are the moments that make me smile. That makes me…

Me. Be A Minute, Virgil.

1591 Days Without B III, Day 1032 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 337 ~B The Ball, Virgil~

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A great man once said, “You know nothing about dying, and you know nothing about love!” Let’s start simpler. What do I know about sports? The richer you are, the smaller your balls. “Am I rich enough?” There’s still love around. “B The Ball, Virgil.”

Tuesday, June 3, 2025

Meditation 337 ~B The Ball, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But I’m not a prince, a player, and how many puppies have I had love?

Love hasn’t always been a ball for me. A dance? A game? And to have the balls to do so. That last one is another thing entirely. But when it came to Braxton… An accident.

“Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.”
― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle (2008)

Honestly, that’s not something a parent is supposed to say about their child. But Braxton.

Love, ask me how I am on this Sunday, June 1, 2025. And you’re seeing this on the 3rd. Ha.

Love is like seeing a fly ball and “I Think I Can, I Think I Can,” get off The Pillows first to go to a ball game. But anyway, I see the ball, and I reach out, and I get beaned in the head. SIGH. Or I chase a ball into the street and… BAM!

But enough about my fur buddy Braxton. And Virgil? Six months of meds… He’ll live.

What about two furry balls that are a little bit closer to my person, if you know what I mean. When was the last time “You and Me” made ‘the bedsprings sing’ in this Lifehouse of ours? I don’t have little white balls, ha-ha. Still, my big, ole black ones feel like they are getting whacked around, and I need to find a hole someplace in you, my beautiful wife.

Wow! Was that crass? I could talk about my fantasies with you, my pretty “Cheerleader.” “Oh, I think that I found myself a cheerleader; she’s always right there when I need her,” right? Being here singing “I Like It Rough.”

Like football? I would actually prefer it if we wrestle. All WWE style. Seriously WWE.

They released Ron Killings, AKA R-Truth. Those bastards. But another time, my love. As for putting another black man down, I need only look at myself in the mirror. Sunday?

Every day, I have the balls to knock myself down like so many bowling pins. And it “Hurts Like Hell.” But much like embracing the pain of losing my firstborn son B. And the perverse pleasurable pain and torment that I inflict upon you. Like the Scorpion said to the frog as they sank to the bottom of the water. “It’s what I do” I’m “LoveStoned.” “Dead in the Water.” I play music, not with balls. B The Ball, Virgil.

1584 Days Without B III, Day 1025 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 330 ~There’ll B Bodies, Virgil~

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I got so freaking sad. Walmart tends to do that before MAGA’s tariffs. As always, FDT! And I won’t get paid this week. Virgil has a vet visit, and I have a girl looking to be with me. I’m trying to ‘save’ myself… There’ll B Bodies, Virgil

Tuesday, May 27, 2025

Meditation 330 ~There’ll B Bodies, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I’m not Jigsaw. Did I mean that to be funny? Like Stephen King, Eli Roth…

Oh yes, there will be blood. Only in movies and books. And why am I in such a creepy mood today? Monday, May 26, 2025. The past few weeks haven’t been so kind. I know.

But I could be crying over Braxton as I did this morning. There was the sweat from my “Anxiety” setting up Virgil’s next vet appointment. I must be as ‘annoying’ as Doechii’s song worrying about my first and second born. And can I mention I see myself sitting on that hard bench in Banfield back on Sunday, January 31, 2021, hearing my son was dying?

He wasn’t the first life I saw end, but the first I ended with my own hand. The stroke of a pen, whatever. A body.

And he was lucky. Braxton only had to die once… Twice, if I ever truly let him go. I don’t know if I ever can. But that’s the man you married. One who has died so many times up to this point in our lives. Our lives? But the day my B left is the one I dare to remember.

“On the day I was born.” What, was I “Bad to the Bone?” The day my father beat my ass for lying about my homework. I wrote down the problems but without any answers. Hell! I still feel a certain kind of way about drinking a bottle of IBC Root Beer. He smacked the bottle out of my hand before… Anyway, how many other lives.

“There I lay, wearing dead people as armor against death.”
― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle

Again I’m being pretty effing creepy. But I slay, vanquish, delete, and unalive myself so many times in so many different ways. And no, not because of Braxton. Or that I feel I’m failing Virgil. What about taking care of you and our children? Baby Doll, Love? A Man Provides.

And ‘God forbid’ I use the dreaded K-word. Unless we’re talking about the film Pontypool, then “K*ll is kiss!” And I can’t start singing Teen Idle Feeling super, super (super!)… well, you know the rest. I surround myself with the living to keep back death.

I lie in bed with you. I pay Virgil’s bill. I tuck in our children. I read and write. Burying bodies in fiction without graves. But There’ll B Bodies, Virgil

“Be the body, not the shadow; hold space.”
From ― Amina, The Book of Clarence

1577 Days Without B III, Day 1018 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will