Tag: Honesty

Gospel 253 ~How Braxton WARMED Me~

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I should go for a walk, take a hot shower, burn rubber and attend to the errands that I’ve been neglecting as of late. No, I rather stay in Braxton’s hoodie or wrap myself in blankets and figure out how to avoid Hell; too late. How Braxton WARMED Me.

Thursday, March 11, 2021

Gospel 253 ~How Braxton WARMED Me~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Are you waiting for me now? “Hope the weather’s good and it’s not too hot.”

No, not like that, Braxton. To quote another song, “isn’t it ironic, don’t you think?” Here I am in Hell, and God saw fit to adopt my Cerberus. I want to be all Ethan Montgomery and scream out; you’re mine. Any luck hearing me yet? It’s been thirty-eight days, Braxton. Maybe the angels needed something to do in their downtime? I bet you have them running, huh. Are they like your first or second moms, all furry, lovey-dovey? Indiana Gone says hi,” I had her crying again, missing you, and you wouldn’t want that, right? Talking to her Tuesday, she asked about, let’s say, “stuff and thangs? Am I trying to get to Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge, or wherever… never seeing you again? That’s Hell

Or it could be that I spend so much time under the covers. I don’t know if I’m waiting for COVID or the weather is making me regret the walks we missed. I’ve been talking a lot about food lately, and I think stuffing my face makes me sick. It’s with you being gone, B. I’m trying to find other things to be mad at. Now don’t go hiding under any beds. I’m not angry at you, the vets, the people who saw you last… Braxton, I wish I’d been there. I’ve cried enough to douse so many fires now? I’m sweating bullets for you because no sin could be worse. “I’ll never let you down,” but oh look, there’s your name on paper there.

“Burn rubber but not your soul,” How’s the traffic, some car rides from here to there. If I had been a day faster, Wednesday, you were crying, Thursday you seemed okay, Friday, the vet. I have replayed those last days over and over, and if it wasn’t wrath, sloth, greed.
Son, what you don’t understand is I wanted to give us that life we dreamed of. I wanted you to be wrapped up in warmth, days out in the sun. Your siblings would be raining food on you in every direction. Should I be jealous future wife likes you better? B III, I’m hoping you’re not angry with me or even whoever thought they could love you better. Only everyone knows, How Braxton Warmed Me.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 252 ~Braxton Was Full Of…~

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How many times would Braxton come running into my room, and I would have to check his bathroom pad, or I would ask, “B Squared, did you eat everything?” My bed feels wrong when he isn’t cuddled beside me or, on the end, guarding. Braxton Was Full Of…

Wednesday, March 10, 2021

Gospel 252 ~Braxton Was Full Of…~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’m “hanging tough, staying hungry,” as the song goes. As Braxton did, towards The End.

Belly pains hint that I should join him. No, I’m not starving Inspector Echo. You should have heard me rattling off food choices to Indiana Gone. Steak and Potato Soup, Buffalo Wings, Shrimp & Pasta, Boston Market Salisbury Steak. Not quite three squares a day. Remember how much I would share with Braxton? Sometimes I think my hands have forgotten how to move. If I’m not letting B III dabble, then I’m making a mess of myself. I keep saying it, but maybe that’s why I’m picking stuff that I didn’t give or I couldn’t. Always going to Subway now (no fries). I’m jonesing for onion rings. My nephew was here, and we talked about why I had gummy bears and didn’t like chocolate much.

X-Men, Pokemon, what cartoons do the kids watch these days? Braxton is easy. When he isn’t stuffing his face or pretending to, much to my shame. Braxton is filling his little deer-head full of intel. Sundays, he’s quiet, TWD; we’d ride out the apocalypse together. The truth, and I’ve never said this aloud, but at least when B III barks, he is trying to help me somehow. Other than Indiana Gone, M Anime, Cherry, and my mom, people’s words are only noise. It’s like being stuck in Charlie Brown’s world, but he’ll always have Snoopy. Oh, and I’m not discounting people on Facebook, the Mamas, the Papas, the Grandma. Braxton’s Life Matters. It is full of love, or so I try to tell myself now.

Okay, I talked to Indiana Gone (second BFF) last night, and it started innocently enough. With Triple B gone, I’m touched starved. I don’t know how I would “Just Survive Somehow” in 2020. Inspector Echo, no matter what, 2021 is the worst year imaginable, January 31. Anyway, we talked about me having friends, and I reminded her how I keep score. Then I looked around at the table full of Braxton’s treats, his full water bowl. His pillow empty, aside from his toy. In my room is his empty bed with his last collar. Around my neck is his pendant full of… Braxton, his remains, his spirit, what speck of him did they get, hmm?

Vacancies in Heaven, why my Braxton? Braxton Was Full Of…

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 251 ~Worries And Wrinkles Braxton~

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I must be getting old, as I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. Has it really been only thirty-seven days so far? To be fair, how am I supposed to be looking into the future now? Love can’t tell time, and still, I have “Worries And Wrinkles Braxton.”

Tuesday, March 9, 2021

Gospel 251 ~Worries And Wrinkles Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now and still a father. Only when you lose a child… and I know, how dare I.

I’ve been getting that a lot for five weeks. People telling me what my son IS, WAS, NOT. Waking up “late” this morning, I saw this thing on Youtube about Leela from Futurama. They thought she was an “Alien” initially, but she was a “Mutant” actually. Because she was an alien, that made her special but being a mutant would have her living in the sewer. There are also those people that lavish great attention on their pets. Hell, they’re treated better than people. Love, being not only a feeling but action, I find myself amongst them. Eternally, Braxton will be my son. There were only fifteen years, one month in my arms. One month, one week, two days, gone. We grew old; we grow old together. Love never dies.

“Love can’t tell time,” either, as I heard in a movie once. I met him when I was around twenty-one. My love, when we got together, um, wow. As the song goes, “and they call it puppy-love” and somebody else, “you say it’s puppy love, we say it’s full-grown,” yep. Young people right, and then we had our kids, and suddenly I’m an “Old Man.” I still envision how that would be for Braxton. How many times have I said it, B III with a little beard? His tan hair is turning grey as he lay there between the children protecting them. Painful for them to see how this turned out, and I would worry. You worry about me going crazy, thirty-seven days and counting.

Braxton’s first day of “school” was when I had to go out of town. I took him in, hoping he would make friends and be happy. He had the girls chasing him; I had to give him “the talk.” On those last days, the words “I’ll help you” keep echoing in my ears. Did I?
Then I’m supposed to act like, what a “dog owner?” My Olds have already returned to “factory settings” after what “three weeks.” My mother told me she was glad I wasn’t dead, and my “father…” let me know if you find someone who knows he has a son at all. Like father like son, how much did I acknowledge Braxton and my love for him? My Worries And Wrinkles Braxton.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 250 ~Consider Threats Like Any Invitation~

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I killed him. I’ll never forget it was my fault, my responsibility, my failure. When my Olds moved, I said to him, “Get in the car, Braxton.” inviting him into my life. He gave me the gift of his. If I had known… Consider Threats Like Any Invitation.

Monday, March 8, 2021

Gospel 250 ~Consider Threats Like Any Invitation~

Hundred And Seventy-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but Braxton IS priceless…still. The things I bought to keep us safe.

I grabbed my gun last night when I heard noises coming from downstairs. Once “something fell,” I never figured out what. So I grabbed B III and left him upstairs as I took one of my knives and my phone to go looking everywhere. Easy to be black and die. Not that I mean to be political today, or am I sick of crying every morning? So many times, I’ve said my biggest fear IS leaving him. Not once did I consider he would leave me. I’m not STUPID, but B is going to live forever, I would tell myself. I’d die protecting my boy. When I saw his sickness, it was like, Braxton is strong, a fighter, he’ll beat it; “there goes My Hero.”

Like his Old Man, he could be a villain too. Braxton and I had our fights from time to time. Hell, how many times did I swear I would never become like my “father?” I have a whole house to hide in, and B III will hide under the bed. God, don’t make me terrifying. Madam Justice, one of my favorite ways to wake up in the morning would be Braxton and me back to back. I would be facing the door, his greatest enemy, and he would face alarms. Yeah, one of the reasons I finally made it back to the table… I hate my Day Job, so write. Write about all the enemies we had, people, places, and things. Brothers against the world

It would be easier to count out those things that brought us peace. Yet again, why I hate myself, I brought Braxton into a life of fear, so much so that he would seek it out. Even when there was nothing there, he would bark as though to ward off evils I could not stop. The Dog Stop told me that Braxton IS so mean because he wanted to protect me always, but when it was my turn? I wanted to protect everyone from him.

Suppose I’d been braver, more brazen, appreciative of the beauty of this whole world. Finding bliss, a semblance of peace. Holding him on that last day, it wasn’t that. When he became mine, “Get in the car, Braxton,” I said. Consider Threats Like Any Invitation

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 249 ~Braxton “The Belly” Bully~

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Now, where did I leave it; seven more treats, water, a clean bathroom pad, and yep his food in the fridge, but I can’t throw any of it away. I should at least check that back left from Thanksgiving. “Braxton “The Belly” Bully,” I’d buy him all the fries.

Sunday, March 7, 2021

Gospel 249 ~Braxton “The Belly” Bully~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and even if you hired another maid, she better not touch any of Braxton’s things all around.

But what brings this on today? You haven’t been downstairs yet, but in a few minutes… Yep, I thought about it yesterday. You’ll go into your bag of treats, setting down another one in his room to go uneaten. How about shaking the meds left and calling out to him? Believing it’s crazy and knowing it’s day thirty-five and you’re crying, yet again. Five weeks and you’re still here, and he’s still gone. Hell, you’ve starved yourself for less. You’re remembering how Braxton was dying; maybe why you eat so much now. Eating for two? Not if you look in that bag leftover from Thanksgiving. Whatever’s left in there must be a new species. If you wanted to die, since you forgot Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 065 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 072) No Fap
  2. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Writing “Look A Thing Like Santa”
    Failed
  5. I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
    Partial Completion
  6. I AM Finishing Reading, “Succubus Lord 9” Eric Vall
    Failed

Enough about your own belly and back to Braxton’s, always Braxton’s or not. You’re still buying sour gummy bears, worms, straws, what have you. Only you’ve been going more for chocolate, no fries, more onion rings, trips to Subway. It’s good, which means it’s bad. Like keeping Braxton’s memory alive, but what about his Last Meal? You were just in the kitchen, and what did you do? Organizing B III’s pills, the halves, and the ones you need to take back for Banfield for them to cut. Only that will never happen. There’s no reason. His food, though… what must it look like? As always, his water dish is full. The dry food is in the fridge; everything is waiting. So are Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, “My Dark Vanessa” Kate Russell
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 072 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I Am Cleaning Out The Refrigerator (Braxton’s Last Meal)
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

It’s been a long time since you fixed the order. Food, parking spaces, this? Chances are, like me, you’ll only get the same two completed despite having all the time in the world this week. It would be for the best if you didn’t spend it eating and sleeping. Braxton would consider it time well spent. He did like to spend some time walking, working off one of those pounds, didn’t he. What about a belly rub? Please don’t open that bag of his hair. It’s one of the last things you have. Remember to eat breakfast but no sharing. Dammit, at this point, you would give him the plate. Like when he was young. When we were young, you and Braxton “The Belly” Bully.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 246 ~You Reading Me Braxton~

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I’m wondering if Braxton found somebody like our friend Indiana Gone to type for him. Maybe his tiny, tiny paws can reach every button, thank you “Weird Things Couples Do With Their Dogs.” You Reading Me Braxton, I hope he knows I love him.

Thursday, March 4, 2021

Gospel 246 ~You Reading Me Braxton~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If you have time… “I’d love to get a letter. Like to know what’s what.”

Now I didn’t write that. It’s from David Bowie’s Everyone Says “Hi.” I’m sure you understand that now being wherever you are. I haven’t read any more about the Rainbow Bridge, Farms, Heaven. “If I had my way, then surely you would be closer,” Braxton. Looking up so many so lyrics because I don’t know what to say, like the day you left. You didn’t understand what I was signing or the papers I was pointing to. God help me if you’re really sitting there in the darkness. I believe you’re beside me, finally knowing. Braxton, I would understand if you hate me for it. I deserve it. Hell, who was I writing to back in January, and now this is us. How dare I.

Nearly sixteen years and every day, I took time to read and write. Sometimes you took it as nap time, and others, you wanted to play. I told you, I was building our future. No more going to the Day Job, for starters. I did it for us because what does a man do, Braxton? A man provides. However, about that future… I’ve spent my days all over Youtube. With my breaking, I suppose “Breaking Bad” makes sense. I listen to the soundtrack I created daily. Everything I write comes back to you, B III, my letters, your novelization, history. I wanted us to have more time. You deserved a family, my wife, some siblings.

To be that greying old man surrounded in such love. Instead, only me, your daddy.

It’s a better word than Murderer. Is that what you think of me? Over the past few days, I’ve been thinking about how my fingers would drum on your head. Sometimes I know it was like I was smothering you. How you would wake me up after I zoned-out reading. I’m still sticking to a routine. I read in the mornings, imagining you cuddled against me. I’ve earned the pain I’m getting from such books as “A Dog’s Purpose” and others. I look at your certificate with the rest of your things. The last bill rest on the coffee table. Dear B, I just need a sign; a bark, your cuddles, knowing you don’t hate me? You Reading Me Braxton?

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 245 ~Dollar Every Time Braxton~

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I’d be broke is the answer, but what is the question? If I had a dollar every time, I thought of myself rather than him. One dollar for when Braxton showed me loved me, well then I wouldn’t just be rich, I would be wealthy, Dollar Every Time Braxton.

Wednesday, March 3, 2021

Gospel 245 ~Dollar Every Time Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I still shop at Walmart. When’s the last time I went to Macdonald’s? Missing PetSmart…

Every day I’m missing Braxton. Hell, I miss being “broke.” I am growing into the brokenness of my heart and mind. Well, I still don’t have any money, but I’m wasting what I do have on books that make me feel worse. For real, I’m saving money which is horrible to admit. I know why. I could have bought Braxton stairs for my bed. Now I’m looking for a headstone. Didn’t I say before, I’ve finally started going back into Walmart but only for chicken and Subway. Inspector, I’m spending money like there’s no tomorrow. Oh, I wish there wasn’t. I get sick often enough because I’m always eating and still hungry. Maybe I could spend money on a new bed to be exhausted in. My “father” would appreciate furniture.

One of these days, I will finally frame these vet bills. It was $100 to tell me he’s still alive. $500 to tell me he won’t be. $300 and “I See Fire.” I’ve been second-guessing everything, like his food and water. I bought cheese and hotdogs for “medicine time.” To this day, I continue to live the life of a selfish man. How dare I.

On the one hand, Inspector Echo, I’m pulling an “Eastman” from The Walking Dead. I’ve believed I’m going to Hell. I know this is Hell. Now I’m trying every day to avoid it because I want to see Braxton. I hope someday. Once again, I spend every dollar to punish myself because nothing I have now is making things better. When you kill, right, Inspector?

The price is too damn high. I swore I would pay anything to make Braxton okay, and didn’t I? Only all the dollars in the world aren’t going to bring him back. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about it… Another furry kid, but I’d only want a Deer-Head Chihuahua. Inspector Echo, I don’t know how much my “father” paid for Braxton, but to me, he was priceless. All dogs deserve homes, but I’m of the hoity-totiy sort “Pureblood.” What the Hell am I going to do? All my distractions catch up at the end of the month, no doubt? Most of all, I can ill afford this black mark on my soul. Betrayal, Treachery… Ninth-Circle offenses, now if only I had a Dollar Every Time Braxton…

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 244 ~Groovy Braxton’s Growling Goodness~

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Braxton got a collar… a dog is a lifetime commitment or theirs. He’d freak out about his, then I think about putting a “rock” on a girl’s finger? For now, there’s only the black chain around my neck reminding me of Groovy Braxton’s Growling Goodness.

Tuesday, March 2, 2021

Gospel 244 ~Groovy Braxton’s Growling Goodness~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which explains your even bigger ring. Braxton has three (collars) noticed. The nightstand, bed, my pendant.

Goodness, what am I getting to today? It’s not that comedy comes in threes. It still hurts to laugh, or it feels wrong. I’ve never been a man of laughter, and neither was B III, but we had our moments. So how else are we supposed to tell if something is good or not? As the poem goes, “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” Of course, I couldn’t hope to do such words justice, but I might do far better than Braxton. Yet he could never say he loved me, but I believe B did; he does. I told him every day. But Braxton, sheesh.
All this you’ve heard, him freaking out about his collar or giving me his favorite toy.

Are you ready to kill me yet comparing puppy love to our love? Didn’t think so because “My Love Is Your Love,” and I’m sure this is still hurting you too. Again Braxton wasn’t too fond of you at first but to see us hurting like this? He tried to fight as long as possible. “It Must Have Been Love” when he growled at me to stay in your arms. I know the feeling. No disrespect, Baby Girl, but no doubt the best hugs came from Braxton. Maybe it’s because I gave instead of received, and he let me. It was like getting his second collar.
The one that still rests in his bed that I always carry. I can hear him even now growling.

Groovy and hip, though, that’s what I thought when the ladies gave me his brand-new collar. Wishful thinking, huh, that being around other people and “kids” made him more mellow. I wouldn’t consider myself that way, My Love but the person I was before Braxton…

These days without him, without Braxton urging me in his own way to be good. Not to be so wrathful as I once was. Being I don’t know who without him and shouldn’t I do that already My Love? I have you and our children, I know. We all have A Groovy Kind of Love. I love you. Braxton didn’t just “belong” to me; he is my best friend, a brother, my son. His life was mine but mine. “I shall but love thee better after death,” don’t I now?

Am I talking about the Force or some new age philosophy, my love for the written word? Braxton was all about free love. When I met you, My Love, Braxton turned all Make Love, Not War. His world was full of sunshine, flowers, and of course, he provided enough fur and hair. Now comes the Rainbow Bridge, as they say. Why did they have to make it even MORE perfect by taking him? Circles of life; how many are there? I’m not hip or groovy without Groovy Braxton’s Growling Goodness.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

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 242 ~Rats, No Just Braxton~

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It’s been one month since Braxton left. I haven’t changed his bathroom pad; his water bowl is still changed twice a day. Twenty-eight treats sit on the table. I haven’t changed the bed, his food is in the fridge. “Rats, No Just Braxton,” or so I deny

Sunday, February 28, 2021

Gospel 242 ~Rats, No Just Braxton~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and here you are worried about rats, creepy crawlers, and why are you itchy. Is it Fatal?

Not like Braxton, as you can see, twenty-eight treats. The days, the month being without him. Another Sunday you’re not looking forward to, and should you? Last night I dreamt about rats of all sizes “crumbling and crawling all around my feet,” the song plays. Nothing is stopping them now, no matter the universe. You hear sounds now and what could once be B III, well who knows now. Again you have B’s food sitting out. Do you think you should look in the fridge at his “Last Meal?” No wonder your eyes are tired. Crying again in dirty sheets, wearing your favorite hoody, still looking for him. Is it any surprise something might have bit you? Braxton should. You’re not doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 058 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 065) No Fap
  2. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Writing “Look A Thing Like Santa”
    Failed
  5. I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
    Partial Completion
  6. I AM Finishing Reading, The Last Teacher by Chris Dietzel
    Completed

He has not been an excuse for a month, and how about all last year? Can you consider this “Bargaining” what you’re doing now? Oh, if I were a better man; if I had worked harder back then. Besides Sunday, you’re going to hate yourself, um, Wednesday. You know that. January 27, to be precise. There was a problem, Braxton cried, but all you could say was RATS. Stupid people, you know, and then Braxton’s situation, but no, you’ll let hate eat you alive. I would say I’m sorry for ruining your week already but wasn’t it? Yeah, it is. Talk to Ethan Montgomery, Dr. Robert Neville, Philip J. Fry. The list goes on. After you lose your best friend, what’s next? Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 065 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  2. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Writing “Look A Thing Like Santa”
  5. I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
  6. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus Lord 9 by Eric Vall

What’s impossible is for the world to stop. I don’t want to laugh. I don’t want to like, most days, I know you won’t want to live. The distractions keep coming, though, like those rats. Only Braxton isn’t here to cover you anymore, to wake you up. Braxton, Come Home. He has, he won’t, Braxton’s gone, he’s everywhere and nowhere. All I know is he wasn’t in my dream, and I was surrounded. Not being bitten only covered in the rats, and what does that mean? Like I’ve said before, I only say Braxton’s name, and I don’t worry anymore. Demons, Desires, Distractions, how you wish you were covered in dirt; well, aren’t you? The Walking Dead starts tonight. Day Job? Rats, No Just Braxton.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton