Tag: Hear

Tale 290 ~Love Bugs B, Virgil~

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I haven’t been bitten by the love bug in some time. When’s the last time I’ve been outside other than to let V out. Or go anywhere I didn’t want to go. What bugs me the most. Breathing. I wish I could make it worthwhile. Love Bugs B, Virgil

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

Tale 290 ~Love Bugs B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But while you always tell and show me, I miss Braxton—you and them. Virgil?

Money makes such a lovely sound. But is it love? For the love of money. If I had it 1,171 days ago, would it have saved my firstborn son, my B? Food insecurity? Never, love! Today, Sunday, April 7, 2024. I’m only thinking about all the problems in the kitchen. Braxton’s food still sits on the counter. Three years? Is that a problem? Frightening, Mad?

Even now, I want to yell out to Braxton to take his medicine or fill up his food and water bowls. I do that for V anyway, but it’s not the same, and it sounds stupid. Doesn’t sound like love…

Like the kitchen faucet that’s acting up, the shelf that fell down, or a messed-up drawer. This mess, I swear.

If that ain’t love, then I don’t know what love is. A well-loved house that I should fix for the living. In doing so, I would honor my Braxton. It’s slowly eating away at me.

Inspecting for termites when I would instead be blasting my way through Terminids, Automatons, and whatever else in the game Helldivers 2. What’s one more distraction? Hmm. I need anything and everything to make some noise. Grieving, Hating, but Loving…

Trying to remember what love sounds like bugs me. Only I want to hear it. You and me, always and forever, my love. I want to place the two of us under the covers. Really?
Hey, it beats me thinking about Maiko Kaneda all day. Your husband has a type.

The two of us love bugs. Those two-legged children of ours, bugging mommy and daddy. Someday, I might even look at Virgil as such. One of our kids. But he didn’t have a choice, my love. I can’t say I was even bitten by the love bug. More like I was bitten by my B. And it would have pained me to leave without Virgil. Only I was being selfish or even obtuse with love. Seriously, what’s with all my talk of bugs anyway? Extermination?

Breathing bugs me. Every breath I take. Take this morning for example. I lied here reading, and Virgil was shoving against me. As long as I didn’t look at him, I could imagine Braxton, love bug. Love Bugs B, Virgil

1171 Days Without B III, Day 612 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 283 ~Hear B, Listen V~

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When was the last time I heard “I love you” and felt something? When was the last time I said it? The last time I heard love and felt it was in Braxton’s last breath. And I’m sure I’ll be hearing it well into the future. “Hear B, Listen V.”

Tuesday, April 9, 2024

Tale 283 ~Hear B, Listen V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… But I can tell why it has to be this way. My son is gone.

Braxton, my Soldier, Soul dog, indeed my firstborn Son. Even now, while I time travel. Today is Sunday, March 31, 2024, Easter Sunday. He Is Risen? Well, not my Braxton.

Today, how many more will pay for my sins? There ain’t no coming back from all these things that I’ve done. But that’s the thing, my love. I’m still gone, and you’re still waiting for me. Even though I don’t look a thing like Jesus. I know I need to cut the music off, love. I need to turn off all the noise and stay awake. Why? Because love’s louder?

Honestly, that’s my problem. The last time I heard love was my Braxton’s last breath. And for 1,164 days, I’ve only been listening. But hearing?

Whatever DEI! And you know what I wanted to say.

More like they want to say. But why is hate so much easier to explain? Why do the things I hate come so naturally? Like myself for what happened to Braxton. You tell me, I loved, and I loved, and I lost you. You sing to me. As long as I’m breathing, always and forever.

So why don’t I want to hear it? Am I making any sense at all, my love? Love is confusing.

It’s the way it has to be sometimes. But how much longer? As I said before, look how far I am from this day. Look how far I’ve come from the day my B fell. I still hear it, love.

Only you know you, man. My love language is physical touch. And when it comes to you and me, I feel everything. And you’ll do anything to make me feel your love. Actions, right? More than words? And everything that comes with it. But you want me to hear you. You need me to. But all I hear is pain, yours, mine, my boys, B III and 2V, our kids.

And I listen to everything else, like some white noise. I am sleeping away existence. Today, love doesn’t lie bleeding. It’s sleeping. And I have to find my way, darling.

Honestly, that’s the only time I’ll say you remind me of my Ma, baby doll. I’ll let you love me. Hear? Hear B, Listen V.

1164 Days Without B III, Day 605 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 248 ~Hear B, Hear V~

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I don’t know what kind of man I am. But for this week, at least, I would be glad if I could be a voice. And what would I say? When did I last say I love you to anyone besides my dead fur buddy? And no one would understand it. Hear B, Hear V

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

Tale 248 ~Hear B, Hear V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… If there’s one thing, I want you to understand. It’s that I love you, Always.

We’ve only just begun to live, as the song goes. I should find another way to communicate other than with pop culture references. As if you haven’t been hearing it all this time, my love. Braxton didn’t care. He understood me in one way, but you are much different. Right.

Braxton knows me as his father. And to you, I’m a… uh… fine man. But you both know me as a friend. And I’m sure on many occasions, I was “Daddy.” Do you know what I am saying? Because that’s what’s been bothering me since last week. Not being understood.

And I don’t know how to say what I need to say. Ever. The why should be easy, my love.

I love you. That’s all.

So why do I continue to mourn and grieve for my Braxton? I don’t know how to say goodbye. You’re a testament to that as well. You’re here. That’s how we live, isn’t it, love?

I’m here, we’re here, they’re here. We all are right here. And I don’t know how to move on. I need the words to move people. Even if it’s good or bad at this point. I need to communicate. And when someone tells you, you’re inappropriate and irrelevant, my love.

Why do you keep speaking? I ask myself every time I look in the mirror. With enough money, what I say is OK. I use others’ looks in the businesses I run. But please listen.

I love you. Please understand!

But I miss my boy. I miss B III. And I don’t see why that is so hard to understand, love. And as far as 2V, my love? I took responsibility. Friendship, love, and happiness? Understand that I wish I could be the man that I once was. I don’t want to remember the child I was. And then there was Braxton. Now, I’m trying to figure out everything else.

But our love. And not only that, but anything and everything nobody wants to understand. Or it’s me. I can love plenty without loving myself. I’m ain’t happy. And I shouldn’t say I am happy for everyone else. But I’ll be glad if you’re happy, our children, Braxton and Virgil. Understand? Hear B, Hear V

1129 Days Without B III, Day 570 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Lesson 223 ~SORRY, In Capital Letters~

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Not for all the tea in China, see even that makes me feel like I owe an apology, but nobody is getting one unless they have four legs and fit snuggly in my bed or two and some good assets, then I’m sure I’ll know one word. “SORRY, In Capital Letters”

Friday, February 9, 2018

Lesson 223 ~SORRY, In Capital Letters~

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” Love Story

Hey Lady Sophia,
I Am Not Afraid Anymore, talk about job security, I never love anybody so that’s why I am perpetually in business and what about that account for my day job? Something I’m going to have to confess to Inspector Echo. My how I hate wasting words, a genocide of thought and I love writing and for that I’ll repeat it, I’m sorry.

Ironically probably my grandest love at the moment which of course is my dog, can’t read and as much as he tilts his cute little head, he doesn’t understand the word. In truth with all of my writing starting from my name to this moment I’m still trying to understand anything and everything. It might explain my depression and why I haven’t been writing because no one wants to comprehend not even me and as much as I wish I could say I’m beyond description, I’m not worth it sometimes.

“Shut up or die…” Pontypool

If anything Lady Sophia that’s been the lesson for this whole godawful week, shut up or become one of them, the infected cretins always just vomiting out whatever is right at the time. Fine, okay, happy, here’s something else I would never say, Trump is a genius, he may be a moron and say some horrible things but the thing about it is, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass what he says. He never says he’s sorry but what does that mean, how does Trump feel about the American people, if he can scream his thoughts to the world “honestly.”

You know something, I think Love Story (1970) has it wrong, love means always having to say you’re sorry, again I’m forever apologizing to the dog, but I didn’t say it at work. I don’t say it to my family, hell I know a woman that loves me, but I don’t tell her I’m sorry. Talk about being a hypocrite; I started this thinking I’m always offering up apologies but other than to my dog who else is there, me and of course Inspector Echo.

My lack of writing might mean that I finally don’t love myself to try and save myself anymore with my words, but that won’t do at all will it? Would it help if I told you I’m sorry, would it help if I wrote it down a hundred times just like I Will Have No Fear, what will it take for me to listen, listen, hear, and understand this one word SORRY, In Capital Letters?

I Will Have No Fear

Hear Me Out

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Once upon a time I made a mom pretty “darn” angry, and it wasn’t my mom for once and I can’t say that this poem helped any. Hear Me Out, well to be fair I don’t even talk to my own mother or many people in my everyday life and still, I try to explain.

Hear me here
I wish you were dear
My girlfriend, my lover, or even a friend
So where do I begin
This isn’t the place
Or is this a waste?

Hear me there
Do you care?
What I have to say
I listen every day
… Okay, okay I’ll shut up
You’ve had enough

Hear me now
Better yet how
Freaking blocked me
You’re not listening
Or buying
Am I lying?

Hear me in
Is that a sin?
These screams
My dreams
Aren’t real
But you feel

What I am
Is not a good man?
Which I never cop to
But a fool
For freedom
So read on
Or don’t
You probably won’t

Hear me out
What I’m about
Sex and drugs
Death and blood
But to clock
And knock
Let me explain
Know my name
Am I too loud?
Just hear me out