Gospel 253 ~How Braxton WARMED Me~

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…~

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 249 ~Braxton “The Belly” Bully~

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 247 ~Thinking Outside The Braxton~

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 246 ~You Reading Me Braxton~

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~

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 242 ~Rats, No Just Braxton~

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

Gospel 240 ~Braxton FOUR One Hundred~

“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 239 ~Braxton, Walkers, Biters, Empties~

“You wanna go outside,” I’d ask him, and he’d go running and hopping down to our gate or the front door, and the two of us would “walk” these streets, um suburbs. Our last walk, his, he didn’t have to make but hope… Braxton, Walkers, Biters, Empties.

Thursday, February 25, 2021

Gospel 239 ~Braxton, Walkers, Biters, Empties~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As for mine, I walked, I worked, I wigged-out. Only us walking, one more walk…

I’ve told the story of our first walk and the aftermath so many times. I remember even earlier than that. There was a time when you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to go two steps forward or two steps back. One of the many reasons you didn’t believe your furry behind should ever meet tile, hardwood, the deck, whatever. I still feel you sitting on my feet. Oh, I know the law well, my friend. When I was chosen, I wouldn’t move for forever and a day. Now isn’t that everyone that has ever had a furry kid they loved? I’ll need to find a thesaurus for more words for crying. This Sunday, I’ll face another first without… Braxton, when will I believe you aren’t somewhere waiting in the house? Every Sunday night, you knew where I was and staying.

You would run around the house like a mad man when you were young, but on Sunday nights? People usually love the weekends, but I don’t know what your favorite day is? Anytime we were together. Daddy was always there, but The Walking Dead? “B TV.” We watched movies all the time, you know, with Indiana Gone too, a lot.

When we were young, B III. The doctor told me my eyes weren’t getting better, but they weren’t getting worse. Then the Vet told me not to move stuff around for you. We started walking less. But we would always snuggle up together to this screen or that; books, TV, me, and my writing. I’ve seen the end of the world coming, but not like this. We’re apocalypse buddies, Braxton.

The Long Walk, The Green Mile, The Running Man, leave it to Stephen King. Do you understand anything I am talking about, Little B? You don’t have to because we lived it every day. On your Vet visits, I would ask, “are you going to walk in like a man?” When we were outside, the people to me were zombies, and you’d bark. The dogs to you were much the same, and I would carry you. I should have carried you around our route one last time, but I was bawling as I prayed for a miracle. You couldn’t even walk in this time, but those trips to your water bowl. I was proud of you. I walk alone now, and Only God Knows Why.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 238 ~The Meanie Of Braxton~

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