Tag: Denial

Gospel 293 ~Braxton Paws Is Love~

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The day I lost my son, there went my remaining love. At first, love was like a river that continued to flow, my tears, the hoodie I wear, the music. Then because of some asshole, my “peace” was shattered and replaced by Anger. “Braxton Paws Is Love.”

Tuesday, April 20, 2021

Gospel 293 ~Braxton Paws Is Love~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m gonna love you now. Hell, when Braxton and I had nothing, I loved him.

I love Braxton still as I love you, our children, the life we have created together. For the past Seventy-Nine Days, I have found that DENIAL has blocked and muted everything. THEY say that love is not only what you say but what you do. A Man Provides baby girl.
Feeling it and doing it, though? It’s like Braxton paused love. I’m starting to understand how THEY say you can’t love another until you love yourself. Now I never liked that. In truth, it’s a lie because I hated myself, but when B III came into my life… Wow, it’s like the same thing. He paused my hatred, the wind, the wrath. To think I complained that he distracted me but what about right now.

You are doing your best, My Love. I am not asking you for anything. Okay, you say Let Me Love You. I’m not trying to be one of those broken men who need saving ever. As you say, When You Say Nothing At All… it’s the only way I can love you right now. At the very least, I will do no harm, and it saddens me further I have to say such a thing. To have lost such love as that of my son. Then to have the evils of men reawaken my ANGER. God, it has been so easy to cocoon myself in my DENIAL. Love, always and forever. Braxton’s remains in a box, and that’s how I feel. I’m Sitting In Limbo, I hope. It was better.

Indeed, I was but until the fucking tattooed arms of men. I dare not turn my ANGER towards the innocent. It was such rage that led to such apathy. Soon I may have time to love again. Who seeks time to hate? It’s why I lie with you now as every time I get up… That’s what feeds my fury. The fact that another black man found it fitting to steal my peace as my Old Man did. I go to say bye to my boy, and my heart beats faster. My blood boils. With these hands, oh My Love I’d love, write, pet my fallen son again yes, yes. Mourn alongside me, but I won’t make you Lady Macbeth. Love… Braxton Paws Is Love.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 243 ~Cheap Words Cost More Breaths~

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A song goes; a penny for my thoughts. I’ll sell them for a dollar. All I want is my best friend back. I keep asking, but I keep confessing too. He’s not coming back, and I’m guilty. And if I had the right words… Cheap Words Cost More Breaths yep

Monday, March 1, 2021

Gospel 243 ~Cheap Words Cost More Breaths~

Hundred And Seventy-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it cost me around three hours to say that every day.

How much of that time could have been spent with Braxton? Hell, with as many times as I said NO to him over the years. Why couldn’t I have died with him? Careful, right, Madam Justice, with those kinds of thoughts. Not that I care so much what happens anymore. You know the list of my most hated words? Please keep in mind people have been calling me crazy forever. To be driven insane with Braxton’s passing? Ain’t I ashamed of myself for not talking this much about him when he was here. Let me say his name for all. Braxton Barks Bradford. That will bring on a few more bleeps and bloops from the hackers and scammers. My boy, his name, what a world

One in which I break down crying that I forgot to say goodnight to him on Friday. I can’t forget; I won’t allow myself to forget. Dammit, Madam Justice, it’s only been one month. The shortest month of the year, his birthday. B III would have been sixteen only now… Yeah, I’m not asking him what he wants for it. “More fries, Daddy. Can I have more fries?” A few fewer trips to McDonald’s. No more calls to Banfield or setting up appointments at the groomers. I’d gladly pay the price; at least then, my breaths would have some purpose. Braxton was worth every single one. I would talk to myself often enough, my Olds would tell you. At least with B, I could pretend.

It’s still called Denial. I speak in the mornings, at night, outings, and for medicine. Other than that, the house is dead silent, give or take background noises. It’s colder but without Braxton’s barks, breaths, or beating heart. The people outside are more annoying and enraging. Madam Justice, might I add forgetfulness. I don’t remember the last words I said to my son before the end. We were both quiet in the car because he no longer had the strength, and my words didn’t matter that trip. Actions, it’s the actions and what was mine, Betrayal. “I’ll help you,” “I tried,” I’m sorry,” “I love you,” “goodbye,” I am a broken record. “Let’s go home.”

Cheaper, of course, but to keep breathing? Hell’s My Debt. Cheap Words Cost More Breaths.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 241 ~Braxton’s All The Rage~

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I deserve Hell. Only I would never wish it upon anyone else. Yet none of the Nine Circles call Sadness a sin. So people would prefer me to be angry. I don’t hate the vet that showed mercy. “Braxton’s All The Rage,” but since I can’t hold him anymore…

Saturday, February 27, 2021

Gospel 241 ~Braxton’s All The Rage~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now because they seem to be mad at everybody. Only I continue to say I’m in Denial.

When I’m not, it’s fear. Now how can that be true? M Anime and I were talking about people and hypocrisy. I swear the things I miss about Little B. I say I’m not afraid because I have nothing else to lose. Arrest me, torture me, kill me. In the end, my Braxton is dead.
To be blunt, like my “father.” I imagine the worst thing, and then I need only say my son’s name. Do I find strength? No, but rather, understanding, and I carry on. “He needs me,” I would often say. Come the night, how about being outside anytime? I’m still afraid. Denial, though, I don’t want to lose it; I can’t lose Braxton. But people seem dedicated to bringing on Anger.

It’s not like my tears will put out the inferno. Braxton’s fire. Geez, how macabre am I? Amongst everything that is left of my B III is his “Certificate of Cremation.” Yeah, I’ll frame it as I bear witness to the paperwork of loss. Not blaming Banfield, Petsmart, Pet Angel…

Lady Lu, I’m trying my damndest to escape Hell, and at the same time, I’m already there. I would say I have COVID or something as I’m hot and at the same time freezing. I didn’t realize how cold this house could be. I was sitting here holding my chest a while ago. Please die. Only I continue to live, but how can I be expected to mourn when wanting to sing “I Hate Everyone.”

Let’s start with me, for what I have done. Yes, not one sin compares to Braxton’s loss. I did it. I “hate” my “father” for treating Triple B’s passing like it should be nothing. Part of me knows why. I was angry the day I saw people with puppies as I looked at B’s ashes. Can I be pissed at Amazon for allowing me to indulge in pain in two different ways? I buy stuff for Braxton and read about suffering. Youtube is killing me with my playlist, while Spotify does nothing. Most of all, these days it’s the Day Job. At my last shift, well… It’s a Mad Season and without Braxton to help. I love him; Indiana Gone did. Braxton’s All The Rage

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 236 ~Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved~

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I don’t want peace, and the quiet is killing me. Let me have my exhaustion and with what my eyes have been doing lately, tuning out, tearing up, taking down every bit of pain as if it would stop my own. “Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved”

Monday, February 22, 2021

Gospel 236 ~Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved~

Hundred And Seventy-Six Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still not angry about Braxton. Well, how do I know I started talking to you Friday. Say it with me, Madam Justice AHEM “Time-Travel.” What I know for sure is this? I’m not Zen. I don’t know what’s what anymore. I’m still reading anything and everything, well, after crying that Braxton isn’t curled up against me. It’s my fault. I’m the one to blame. Talk about a butt kicking deserved. I have those pamphlets on grief the vet gave me. To this day, I believe I’m in Denial, but Anger?

I don’t know how to describe it. Every morning when I wake up, the living routine. You know when I sleep, I’m gone though I’ve begun to dream again. Nothing about B III, only pain, and don’t tell me you can’t feel it in dreams. I’m usually shocked then, waterworks. Most of the time, I’m on autopilot. My mom asked me do I watch a lot of Dish; anything to break up the silence. Only what I mean is, it’s like that movie Warm Bodies, and I’m “R.” What do zombies do? Who was R before Julie and then without her? B’s not coming back. But what peace I knew…again routine, Denial. Braxton is only outside or under the bed. I joined a club about dogs, but I’m finding people much like myself. Madam J, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. So then I look for more pain and for what, my catharsis?

“It’s easier not to feel. Then I wouldn’t have to feel like this.” R – from the movie Warm Bodies

Disgusting, but how about wishing it was me? I’ll be damned if an animal is in pain. My Braxton suffered. People though… You know the song, “the dreams in which I’m dying…” My side was hurting; I thought I got bitten by something, wishing sicknesses. I’ve been eating more. Now I’ve starved myself for at least a week, but now food is the punishment. I said before I’ve been craving things like onion rings, chocolate, Burger King. Anything Braxton can’t have or that breaks my routine and increases my shame. Some time ago, I saw the police, and while they can pick anything at all… My killing Braxton. I’m Eddie Murphy in The Golden Child; I should be punished, purged, never purified. Hell’s not scary.

Living like this… peace, any thought of Zen’s the crime. Laugh, Smile, Funny Face, Braxton. Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 229 ~Beds Are Not Substitute Graves~

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Braxton would let me stay in bed, but he also knew how to get me out of it and then at the end… Hell, I would have joined him if I could’ve. Only for now, at least I’m up wanting to remember, to hold him, but Beds Are Not Substitute Graves.

Monday, February 15, 2021

Gospel 229 ~Beds Are Not Substitute Graves~

Hundred And Seventy-Five Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does Braxton want to be with me forever? Always and forever in my heart, of course. Even now, a piece of him is around my neck. What about everything that is on my nightstand? I’m sure even today (Time-Travel, it’s still Saturday, his birthday). He wouldn’t want me to spend all day in bed mourning. No, that’s what we did on my Emergence Day. A bed has plenty of purposes, but it’s not as a grave. Being in a warm bed is pretty heavenly, which explains why I’m out of mine.

I’m also sure a bed isn’t made to be a shrine; again, we return to my nightstand. It’s been two weeks now or will be, and I keep Braxton’s last collar in his bed. His favorite plaything sits on his pillow in his room. Despite losing him, as I said on “that day,” they’re staying. Braxton’s bed is not exercise equipment, no matter how heavy it is to carry. With everything I have to heave at the Day Job, nothing compares. I keep thinking the whole world could tumble down, crushing me, only B III, bedding, daddy’s breaking heart. They’re not time machines either. As I told you before, I move my son’s bed to the right spot when I leave. Hell, just now, where do you think his pillow is with his toy? Right under the table as I talk to you. I’m still waiting for Braxton to go out, standing by the door.

That’s his territory, the backyard. Indiana Gone asked me where I would scatter his remains… I’ve only cried twice today, and it’s not yet 8:30 in the morning. Madam Justice, honestly, I only opened “the box” once. Inside’s a blue cloth, farther… didn’t wish any disturbance. Well, again, other than the pendant, I’m still wearing. Do I want to keep what’s left of my son sitting there dark? A bag of his hair, a clay paw print, even the certificate of his cremation? 5.5 x 8.5, how dreadful is that wanting to keep it representing Braxton. February 4, by the way, where was I when that was happening? In bed saying that it should have been me than him, honest. Today of all days, though, I’m out of bed, not living really. Existing, Remembering, and Thinking for now at least. Beds Are Not Substitute Graves

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 222 ~Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets~

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I don’t know what’s worst than saying Braxton’s gone, my son is dead. Everything that has been said and not, nothing will trump that. Yet in life, we keep some things to ourselves, right? “Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets,” right

Monday, February 8, 2021

Gospel 222 ~Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets~

Hundred And Seventy-Forth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should have plenty of secrets. You know I do, but for the first time in forever, I don’t care. I’ve told you the worst thing I’ve ever done. Madam Justice, I’ll keep saying it. I killed my son, Braxton is dead because of me. For my failure at being his father, he paid with his life. I’m scared, of course. At the same time, I’ve got nothing left to lose. Why should I care about anything else? What makes me a man has nothing to do with, as the song goes, Underneath Your Clothes.

Take away a man’s son, you’ve truly given him nothing left to lose. – Zombieland

I also don’t have to sing “I Wish It Would Rain,” for I am not ashamed of crying. Hell, it might help to feel anger. It’s been one week; well, it’s Saturday now. Who am I to talk about the stages of grief? I haven’t cried like this since… I don’t know; I’m in Denial. It’s one of the reasons I won’t share this more publicly. I’m not my father. Didn’t I tell you before? I could still feel Braxton’s warmth, and he’s all like, “get a new dog.” He’s lost two, and I don’t recall batting an eye, but I didn’t say, “oh well.” Then his mother died um. Nothing ever hid his hatred towards me. I’ve heard the Christians talk about putting on the whole “Armor of God.” It would do nothing to shield me from my anxiety. Give me dog hair any day of the week. Still, I walked in with Braxton, and I walked out alone.

I bore my soul to the world, and what of Braxton’s? Haven’t I said I would have saved or sold mine to keep his? I haven’t cared about my body since. Only I keep dressing, going to the Day Job, I took a shower somehow. Um, does any of this have to do with the rule? Honestly, I haven’t looked; I mean, really seen a woman since the vets had mercy on Braxton. I still have Twitter, of course, and artistic endeavors. To be honest, I haven’t been checking the bank except to shop online for food. How will I ever go into Walmart Sunday? Women hide things, and I’m a man hell with nothing more. Fatherhood, heart, balls, Braxton

No one knows what it’s like… ha, plenty know. But, Reasonable That Victoria Keeps Secrets.

I Will Have No Fear