Tag: Man

Gospel 230 ~Beauty And The Braxton~

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My sister got Braxton hooked on Disney once upon a time. He was a little beast but also a prince, and what can I say about myself. In a way, he made me somebody else’s “prince charming” because if I could love him? “Beauty And The Braxton.”

Tuesday, February 16, 2021

Gospel 230 ~Beauty And The Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must like a lot, love more, or share with my dear little Braxton.

You can thank my second BFF for teaching him how to get along with you. It took her about three maybe four months. After Braxton crawled all over her for a few minutes, he was all but willing to let her stay. Like Father like Son? When it comes to people and before I met you, I had a saying. If you’re not my dog, my girl, or applying for the position, don’t touch me. Now I still can’t think about another furry kid. Yes, I have you, my love, so other women… Yeah, I’m not crazy, or am I? I’m not the “BEAST” I once was, but I’m still losing it. Can you see why I’m so afraid of losing us? But losing Braxton…

He had a beautiful life… he “is” a beautiful life. I still won’t say “he was.” I tell myself, I try so hard, but where was I at noon? TRADITION… Braxton and I would usually be asleep anyway. The thing is, I wanted to give him that life he gave up to follow me. We both wanted a family. A man takes care of his family. And so I feel like a failure because I couldn’t save him. Dammit, I took from him. I have you, him, our other children, all we have and hope for. I still consider myself a selfish man with all this, Beauty that surrounds me. Why’d he have to go? He might have known you were the one before I did. Well, he wasn’t picky…

I wish I knew why he loved me. You could tell me a thousand reasons, the story of a thousand choices. Until the end, I was always his. He saw something inside me that I have yet to find. Only you found it, babygirl. The way our children look at me, they discovered it too. Braxton saw it first. Enough, so he trusted me with his favorite toy. My son allowed you to stay in my world and to let others find their way in. He saved me when I didn’t want to be saved, and now without him? His beautiful life, the beast that tried to protect me, and now I’m just well here. I love you, him, us, everything, Beauty and the Braxton.

I Will Have No Fear

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 227 ~To Braxton’s Sweet Sixteen~

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Happy Birthday!!! Braxton Barks Bradford. I would do more for your birthday than I would my own and if I had only known… We’d share a steak on mine. I’ve been thinking about what we were going to do today? Some Dad, right? To Braxton’s Sweet Sixteen.

Saturday, February 13, 2021

Gospel 227 ~To Braxton’s Sweet Sixteen~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but can that bring Braxton back to me. Give me one more day, year; I’m greedy.

But never on my birthday and like Father like Son. Up until the end, he treated every day as a holiday. On his last day, I’m sure I’m a broken record. I remember when they first took him from me. “Daddy, can we go home?” In his eyes Dad and Son, our lives were together. Then came my second BFF. The only human Triple B could stand outside of my bloodline. I don’t recall how old he was, but she made him a cake. I believe this was when he discovered his favorite toy. Hell, the first time I saw Braxton defeated by MORE food. Well, it put me to shame. I’d get him a ton of fries, and we would chronicle another year together.

Speaking of shame, February 13. I’m sure there is a dispute to the actual day, according to my Olds. I’ve spent forever trying to forget my birthday. Would anyone bother remembering his ever? Braxton is the closest to love I’ll get, so yep, before Valentine’s Day. If I had my way, I mean, this is what I saw. Braxton, growing a little beard under his chin. His tiny tan hairs are starting to turn grey. I imagined Braxton sneaking back to me after lying with siblings. (Future human children)? He’d protect them and my missus. Not now, but years upon years later, I would hold him as I did. The kids would cry over him. MY wife would find me bawling alone at some point.

Now he would have been 16 today. As far as I’m concerned, he is until I stop, whatever it is I think I’m doing. Would I have taken another “Commemorative photograph…” and bought one large fry for him? I didn’t even buy him a Christmas present; we had the time. That’s all I have now, time. 16 years reduced to maybe 250 in pictures. My pendant has his name, telling me to be a better man. His pillow still under the table with his toy on top. Lady Luna, Braxton gave his all to me, so how best to honor the life he lived… I’ll have it, but love’s not a prize but a gift he gave me. Happy Birthday, Braxton. To Braxton’s Sweet Sixteen.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 226 ~Did Braxton Get Taller~

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Who do you look up to? Me, I look down, expecting to find Braxton waiting. He’ll look to me to pick him up. I’m making sure Braxton doesn’t slip out the door, his scent. He got up there in years, heroics, the Rainbow Bridge… “Did Braxton Get Taller,”

Friday, February 12, 2021

Gospel 226 ~Did Braxton Get Taller~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I should have bought Braxton stairs. He got taller. Higher, Further, Faster, baby, My Braxton.

No, he wasn’t Captain Marvel. The night I met my son, he was carried in by his grandfather. The runt of the litter, though I don’t know if that’s me building up his lore. THEY say tell the legend, so I consider it. Facts he’s a full Deer Head Chihuahua. The next thing I know, he’s in my sister’s arms, a gift. Let me stick to Braxton before… So I wanted my sister to let him walk. Hell, I was at least “twenty,” but I was all in for “puppy love.” Let’s say for days Braxton had better security than the U.S. Capitol, um yep. While I’m on the subject, his name Braxton Barks Bradford, B III, Triple B, Little B, the beat goes on.

Before he could decide on his direction, my mom named him. I thought she got the name from The Jamie Foxx Show and the character Braxton P. Hartnabrig. I think now he was named after the singer Toni Braxton. For three days ha he was Neo, “the one” my one. Now, of course, you get the Bradford but the “Barks?” It was his purpose, plus I was one for Stan Lee’s character names, thank you Raj, TBBT. If B had any other purpose, my sister would carry him around in her purse, which never happened. Then came the move. Braxton and mine and for about six years as the song goes… Just The Two Of Us. It should’ve been much longer, than that I know.

He made me a father, and he was my son, the SUN. He defended my kingdom, and I called him a little prince, no I made him a GOD. I didn’t know prayer until I asked God knows who for his safety, strength, and soul. I became a villain, but Braxton is my Hero. How can I be surprised that my little boy, who figured his butt should never touch hardwood, could fly into my arms? He could jump onto beds and couches. My son became the angel and sometimes little devil on my shoulder. And now, on February 10 (time-travel), I get a call to pick-up his… he made it to the Rainbow Bridge.

Higher, Further, Faster, I’m still growing. Did Braxton Get Taller

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 224 ~Braxton Barks But Will~

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He’s still here, at least when it comes to my mouth saying “medicine time” and “night, night Braxton, sweet dreams,” etc. His water bowl is freshly filled, gates are opened, blinds too for sunlight. Braxton Barks But Will listen to me go insane

Wednesday, February 10, 2021

Gospel 224 ~Braxton Barks But Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m surprised there really isn’t an echo. It’s only me repeating routine, again and again.

Look for me going downstairs. “Good morning, Braxton! Sorry, I didn’t say that sooner,” but he always understood it took me a while to get going. So much so that again, I would repeat myself. Once was for his medicine but also as I left out the door before praying. Lounge around after treats as I leave. “Good Puppy, good puppy, Be Good Puppy. I’ll be back. I love you. Make good decisions. Always make Good Decisions.” Afterward, “I’m out the door. Be Good Puppy, Make Good Decisions. I Love You B, Love You Braxton. Lie around, I thought to myself, though he would guard the house. He must have been thinking I was crazy back then. No, it’s only been ten days, only TEN!!!

Listen for me to come home. Other than Indiana Gone being here or my “father” being by Braxton would hear me utter the same greeting. “Just Me, Baby B. You have a good day?” Even on our last “normal” day as I passed out on the bed. He needed attention. Licking my face because he knew what was wrong with me was more important. I know it wasn’t. He is my son; he’s what matters. The pain in my mind was nothing to the hurt in his body and soul. Oh, look, my third cry of the day, and the day has not begun yet. Laugh at me, and he was capable, but it didn’t hurt so much when he did. Good times were better.

Long for those, and we both did. Now, as I was telling Indiana Gone, my best… Nope, she’s still my second best friend; Braxton will always be first. Anyway, I said to her that everything good feels wrong. Having fries, going shopping, even writing today. Like where is he to again lay by my side? To jump up every time there is a noise. He would be excited when something would come to the front door, presents… I said this is my third bout of tears. The first was when Amazon delivered Braxton’s tiny pendant. Love lunatics… I think we were. “So what if I’m crazy? The best people are,” as the song goes. He believes it because I’m listening as Braxton Barks But Will.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 223 ~Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie~

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The person that has made fun of me for crying the most is my Old Man. I don’t want to talk about him, though. Why did Braxton feel he had to be so strong for me? I’ve cried most more times in nine days than… Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie.

Tuesday, February 2, 2021

Gospel 223 ~Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I would only have you cry tears of joy. There is no joy in me.

Was it wrong of me not to take you and our other children with me to Braxton’s goodbye? All my life, I was taught that a man ain’t supposed to cry. Nowhere motivationally, all my music, and from an individual, I hope you never meet; my “father.” Braxton didn’t cry. So how many times have you caught me, hmm? I remain a traditionalist that a man must be strong. My son was the strongest man even when I was running around calling him a puppy. One day out of seven is what I blame myself for, well, two days. The day he did cry, and the day I would never hear him cry again. A Wednesday and Sunday, because he took after me. My Braxton.

How is it okay for a man to hate but not to cry? I hated. Not him, never my son, but I hated people and ignored his crying. Now it’s all I do. I hate myself, and I cry for him, and there’s nothing. Indiana Gone told me before she got married that if her groom wasn’t crying, she was going back up the aisle. I’m sure I teared-up out of love for you when it was our turn. Only the tears that I have shed in nine days alone. Has it only been over a week, and I’ve been sniffling, sobbing, silent except for the times you’ve caught me. I’m sure Indiana Gone has shed some tears, and others, even you. But should I?

For the first time from forever, I have to say this time; I don’t give a damn what you think. I don’t mean to sound awful, but I was Braxton’s father before you. If he had cried just one time that Sunday? No, he cried Wednesday as I stewed in bed, hating the whole world, losing my soul. I lost him, and the fact that such was allowed to happen? No again, this is my fault; only I don’t cry for me but only for him. It makes me wonder why I was made so. It scares me still when our children cried as babies and cry now. Should I let you grieve with me, the loss of my Braxton? No, Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie.

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

Gospel 220 ~Will’s Sound Of Silence~

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Is Braxton listening? How high’s the water bill just for refilling a bowl to sit there. Not wasting money on food as nobody needs to see me sobbing in the middle of Walmart. If it wasn’t for my madness, would I even speak? “Will’s Sound Of Silence.”

Saturday, February 6, 2021

Gospel 220 ~Will’s Sound Of Silence~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but not because I’m close to anything like Simon & Garfunkel. What does silence sound like?

Someone asked this on Ridiculousness. I’m surprised I remember that; it’s background noise because I’m still listening for Braxton. That’s the simplest answer I have, Lady Luna. A life with a dog and then keep living without them. Every day, keep going, on and on. Sobbing, screaming, up until the very end, I was praying. I have prayed, I mean really 3 times in my life. Only once for myself. Save him somehow, save my son, save my Braxton. Every time I left the house, I prayed continuously. Haven’t talked to God in 6 days. Seventh-day he rested if I know my Bible. Other books have become background as well without Braxton’s breaths, the beats of his heart. Even his bellyaching. Then he wasn’t eating.

Sucking up to me and dying. Showing such strength because Braxton didn’t want me to worry. I want to hear his paws on the floor again. The way he would lap up water and dive into food. Especially when he knew that there would be sharing Daddy’s sometimes. His “humpfs” Sleep came easier to the both of us. Well fuck, he protected me, and what did I do for him? I am not a liar, Lady Lu. I put him to “sleep?” No, I sleep when I can because when I wake up, I’m here without him. It’s 1 more second I have to live with what I’ve done. Murderer… say it again and again because he’s no longer here. Braxton, such was my goodness.

Sorry is all I hear now, which only makes the silence that much louder. The first day it was like the heavens opened up for my boy. Another day it was a choir. Then the “tryouts.” It’s been oh 6 days, I’m crying, my heart is cracking, breaking, shattering, yes. Selfish of me to put such suffering on others, isn’t it? I’m not blaming anyone but me. I’m the one who had to cover up his name because scammers, scum, and snakes came out of the woodwork. The one life I could turn to is the life that I ended. Braxton, I still talk to. Signs of my madness saying “Night, Night,” “Medicine Time, etc.

Because his quiet is too much. Will’s Sound of Silence.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 219 ~For Will, Pancakes, Braxton~

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I don’t want to talk about other people’s stories now. It’s only been a few days, and I keep thinking I should write out Braxton’s. That is when I can see straight for a little while. Not from hunger but too many tears. “For Will, Pancakes, Braxton.”

Friday, February 5, 2021

Gospel 219 ~For Will, Pancakes, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I still buy pancakes. I’ve told the pancake stories, and here we go again, ready?

Braxton was young, and I was too old to still live with my Olds; much too old. I had a thing for Aunt Jemima French Toast, or maybe it was waffles. One morning after getting breakfast, I forgot a drink and left the food sitting on my bed. I come back and find this ball of fluff soaked in syrup, a big grin on his face, happy as can be. Well, the next day, I sit a plate of pancakes out of his reach. My Mom comes by and says, “You must really love pancakes.” That’s how I love my son. I would start saying, “I love you like pancakes,” meaning I placed him higher than anything in my life. My heart, my mind, Heaven…

When he was born, though… I wasn’t there. He came into my life in the hands of his grandfather. Braxton couldn’t have been more mine, but he started as a “gift” to my sister. I should have treated him as my “present” every day, but come another Sunday and TWD…

“When you were, uh, pouring the Bisquick, were you trying to make pancakes?” from TWD.

I made Braxton my son. He made me a better man, an alright one, a father. He died Sunday but today’s not that story. Not for you anyway, as I try to block it out, but it plays again; my little boy, dying there. I’ll start crying again, and not a day has gone by without tears. Making other kids…

No, not one could sit in my lap the way he did; how he would curl up as if I were a plate and he was a pancake. No matter what, he was a little prince, and I was his throne. Sometimes he would bring his toy like a scepter and sit it beside me. He would place it in my lap when he rather not be bothered. Near the end, he would lie there, sweating, “leaking” I don’t know what. I still haven’t washed the sheets or his stuff. If it weren’t for work, he would always be on my jeans. Everyone tells me to eat, and right now… Hell, my stomach will be filled, but I am empty. Needing, For Will, Pancakes, Braxton.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 217 ~You’re Killing Me, Will~

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I believed the worst crime any human could possibly commit is the destruction of another person’s soul. Hell, I would give mine to God or sell it to the Devil if either brought back my son, my best friend but why is he gone? “You’re Killing Me, Will”

Wednesday, February 3, 2021

Gospel 217 ~You’re Killing Me, Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. There I said it because; only a “rich” man… Inspector, no one is above the law.

I am GUILTY of Misanthropy, Murder, and Madness. Misanthropy like a mother fucker (pardon my language). It started Wednesday of last week. I came home, and I was tired. God, I was so tired, and all Braxton wanted was my attention. The one life who gave a damn about me, and I ignored him because I was done with people. There’s this girl at work that’s been ever so sweet since his passing. Only she doesn’t know how to talk to me. Hell, I don’t know what to say. I wouldn’t have to say anything if I had been reading the signs that night. Only by hating people, I didn’t care for him. That’s how it started, Inspector, I killed Braxton, I killed my son.

Murderer… I don’t want to be a murderer. I am, though. Not the vets, no, not in the slightest, they gave him mercy. I thank them for their service. There was nobody else, only me, Inspector Echo. To think what I worried about all last week, STUPIDITY. Let the cops take me to jail, after what I’ve done to my son. For nearly five days, I ignored him Wednesday, my greed Thursday, my hesitation Friday. I let go of everything Saturday, and I prayed. I was on my knees praying, following, cleaning. Sunday, I gathered him up and murdered him.

Madness, fucking madness!!! Not Anger, not yet anyway. Well, other than at my “father.” Braxton’s body was still warm, and my father says, “get a new DOG.” They would say I’m still in Denial. I always open his gates as if he were walking with me. Every day I refill his water bowl. The trash was picked up today, but I didn’t throw out a scrap of his food. I won’t wash his bed, the sheets, my hoodie, which I’m still wearing. I walk into his room and lay down a treat. Three treats for three days. I keep his final papers, so I’ll never forget Inspector Echo. I need to see the proof of what I PAID for!!! I did this, Braxton is dead because of my Hate, with my Help, and now I dream of Heaven to be.

His last look, I swear, “Daddy.” You’re Killing Me, Will.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton