Tag: Man

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 248 ~SUM Of Braxton’s Parts~

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My foot hurts, my back, I’m still itchy, and as for a cure for a broken heart… Braxton wasn’t an M.D., but he always knew when something was wrong and what was worse. If only I had been better at that, he would be here instead. SUM Of Braxton’s Parts

Saturday, March 6, 2021

Gospel 248 ~SUM Of Braxton’s Parts~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I rather “dance with my puppy” again, for the record “Dance With My Father” blah.

And blah is what I should be saying about all my pain… physically at least. I smashed a toe at the Day Job under a carton of shoes. As has become my habit, I thought of my son with the hurt, and that was that. Watching Braxton leaving me, dying. There is no worse pain Lady Luna. I’ve said before with all my anxiety and terror, there is no greater fear for me anymore. I’m a black man “living” in America; let the cops come. I can’t tell you I love my “father,” but I no longer fear him. Braxton was scared of him too. That brings me to today’s point. B III did so much for me, all “look daddy no hands,” my boy.

He’s still sitting there on the nightstand. His paw prints, the small bag of hair, “The Box” (for those of you keeping score, my second cry of the day). Thirty-Four days ago, there was my alarm clock, two tins full of cash, my knives. Braxton would wake me up anyway.
Well, not for the Day Job, but he was always here, after. Right now, he would probably be sitting on my foot, knowing that it hurts. You won’t believe me, but if I were sick, he would carry my blanket. And sometimes nudge me to my bedroom and welcoming covers. Crying would be something new to him. He whined, and all I wanted to do was sleep. As for now, I’m dead, or it’s never.

If he wasn’t trying to earn his M.D., he was a different sort of alarm, Triple B Security, that’s what. He protected the house every day and, of course, me. It’s still scary, and to be honest, I had only touched my gun once a few days ago; frightening thoughts. Only Braxton was all about my health. I don’t remember the last time I took a walk. To work, shop, but I don’t really shop now. I think I said Subway and a bucket of chicken. I never bought Braxton anything from the Day Job. Otherwise, I’d be more broke. Saving money and losing it; a man of contradiction. I need Braxton here to show that I’m not crazy. There’s only SUM of Braxton’s Parts.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 247 ~Thinking Outside The Braxton~

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Think outside the box. There was a time that I wanted to be a veterinarian. Don’t care for people, but I love dogs. Not the one in Duck Hunt. Braxton watched me play games, watch movies, but I never saw myself save him. “Thinking Outside The Braxton”

Friday, March 5, 2021

Gospel 247 ~Thinking Outside The Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so maybe I’ll buy the first machine that tells me what dogs think. What Braxton thinks

Like Father, Like Son, so that would be a waste of money. He likes to walk around the block. A black man with his Mexican kid. Now is there a more sensible way to say that? Well, as the song goes AHEM, “First let me explain I’m just a black man” okay, he’s a Chihuahua. My favorite place is in bed, and he was under it. I’ll hide under the covers from who knows what, and he hid underneath. No, I think I got the know. We don’t like people, Sophia. Dead people… When I would babysit him back when he belonged to my sister, he was a Disney fan. My sister hated what I would watch, but my “father” actually chewed her out. Surprise

She wasn’t training him, so for hours, I would watch for his bathroom time. You know TWD is back, so how was my first Sunday without him? Say it with me, Lady Sophia, “I cried.” One more thing I need to give up. Um, I’m trying chocolate, onion rings, breathing. How about some happiness? I still won’t say it, but the best of times was when Braxton was boxed in between Indiana Gone and I.

Movie Nights, and for a few hours, Braxton had a family. I was glad, and he was happy. If I could get out of my own head like my little boy. If he weren’t thinking about me, it’s “what’s in that cold box?” “Why are you in the water room?”

I should give B III way more credit. How many times have I asked why didn’t he like the car? Um, it never went well for him. The vet, the groomers, even if it was a new place to walk, we’d have to come home. “It’s too hot,” or “don’t leave me, Dad.” As always. But sitting on that bench when he was taken from me and was returned. I swear I’ve never thought of this house as a home. Happiness, home, have a heart, that was all my Braxton. A gift I saw wiggling one day in my father’s hands given to someone else. Braxton chose me, lived in this house, died in my arms. Now he’s in a box. Thinking Outside The Braxton.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

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 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 240 ~Braxton FOUR One Hundred~

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“I love you,” “Can we go home,” “Everything will be alright, Braxton,” and still there weren’t enough words. No amount of money could save him. And if my father mentions getting a new dog one more time… Braxton FOUR One Hundred, Five, Nine.

Friday, February 25, 2021

Gospel 240 ~Braxton FOUR One Hundred~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so $100.00 shouldn’t really bother me. It was Braxton walking on three legs that certainly did.

Now that’s not where he got the “B III” from. That’s his name, Braxton Barks Bradford. I’ve said before that it was my mom who named him Braxton. It still hurts to talk about him like this. My Dæmon, my son, Little B. And again my sadness and rage. What about purpose? I keep breathing, Lady Sophia. Braxton’s purpose was to BARK. Of all the things I absorb, it was his barking that was my joy as much as I took it for granted. Sometimes grated on my nerves or would go overboard. It showed he cared, loved, protected, “Dad.” Braxton had his own way of saying it. He was another Mr. Bradford. But most days, it was B or B III, Triple B too.

Such time is priceless but to check out a bum leg is about $100.00. I came back one day, big score with a TV, a box of shrimp and fries, and I had Braxton. Dare I say life was sweet? So I let him go outside as I get situated only to see him come limping in on three legs. Braxton is so brave and pretends that he’s always walked with three legs. He never wanted me to worry, but I quickly freaked-out and carried him out, driving all crazy. Swear I was so scared, and we went to three different pet hospitals, panicking father. Finally, we made it back to Banfield, and $100.00 later, he had stepped on a pinecone or something, nothing more.

Beefy, he wishes, Be Free, well isn’t he now, but always my B III. I wouldn’t say I like math, and I’m not one for numbers in general. Being counted on… I once wrote that four was a lucky number, but how wrong I was. This I do know; 15 years wasn’t enough time. $323.60 is horrible. I had one son. Excuse me for being all out of sorts, it’s still Wednesday now, and I had to deal with “people.” My family, shouldn’t I say? As in my father and nephews. Should I count to three like a southern mother? I no longer say, “In five minutes, the world will end.” Dammit, my world ended, January 31, Braxton Barks Bradford.

Nothing can bring him back but Braxton FOUR One Hundred.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 238 ~The Meanie Of Braxton~

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Open the door, close it. That’s what I want to tell my father. Braxton still loved him despite everything. But Braxton wouldn’t move when he was around, scared, as was I. Damn termite guy. If my father dares moves anything… The Meanie Of Braxton

Wednesday, February 24, 2021

Gospel 238 ~The Meanie Of Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but there is only so much hair, so many treats left, and what about training pads?

Inspector Echo, this is my Braxton’s home. I can look at where he lies in that box all day long, but this place, all of it is ours. I said it the day I came back after… Nothing is going to change. Well, other than the nightstand that no longer carries my savings and knives. Money, blades, my 9mm. I haven’t really touched them since February 10. I’m a father without a son anymore, but I’m still Daddy, and as I protected him, he would defend me. What are we so afraid of? He would shake and jump; I’d load up and grab a knife too. Like father like son, we became mean because of one person. Braxton’s grandfather, or to be clear, my “father.”

B and I are dead to the world, or at least I try to be. I feel nothing, or I can’t stop crying. The closest I get past the 5 Stages Of Grief is ANGER. I hate myself for what I’ve done. But I’ve said it before, I was in the FUCKING PARKING LOT, “get a new dog,” my dad said. He’s had two dogs himself at different times, Rottweilers. My father called them family dogs, security. My sister and I never played with them, well, pass the puppy stage. They lived outside in their own cage. When each one died, the family, well, nothing. Inspector Echo, I’ve had a few dogs in my life. I will never say I’m the best man but Braxton…

Fifteen years, he is my son. I would die for him then, and I will die for him now. To protect everything, he was to me. I haven’t found much to be afraid of, though I am or much to be ashamed of. Yet again, I’m guilty. I’m living a lie that he is with me, but he’s not Echo. Now I get a call from my father about the damn termite guy, and I won’t be here, but my father will be. My first fear has been telling him I don’t want to talk about another dog and walking in, and he’s brought one. I begged for a dog. My sister got Braxton… figures.
There’s not much chance of him bringing another dog here.

Second, he’ll try to wipe away Braxton’s memory. EVERYTHING FUCKING STAYS. If he were to pull something as such? My father and I have fought once, and Braxton tried to protect me. Same blood, same mud; Braxton and I only had each other against him. The last fear is that if my father did such a thing? If I could follow Braxton wherever? Before that, though… no harm would come to Braxton, I swore it in this house. My anger, my rage against my father. Better he opens the door and closes it, otherwise. Fighting For The Meanie Of Braxton.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton