Tag: Music

Saga 263 ~To B Hurt Virgil~

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Love Hurts? A song that I’ve never liked but rings true. Since I’m never happy with it. I’m always hungry in one way or another for it. And effing horny. Well, except when I’m mourning my son. For 161 days. And to hurt anyone else. “To B Hurt Virgil”

Tuesday, March 21, 2023

Saga 263 ~To B Hurt Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I will never be hurt again. Oh, sure, I’ll claim victimhood like a Republican.

“I believe I can see the future,” as the song goes. Do rich people have time machines? I still want my Braxton back but damn. The worst pain I’ve ever felt, I keep telling myself today. Today is Sunday, March 19, 2023. Time Travel! But today, Trump is supposed to be arrested. Is anyone hurt? And who? If anything, the pain has become my constant, my love. Hell! Am I becoming like M Anime? Before Braxton died, I can’t say I was ever at 100% at any time. It was more of a “But I’m not crazy. I’m just a little unwell. I know, right now, you can’t tell.” Does my singing help, or does it hurt your ears? My ass is kicked thinking about my “Lost Boy.” Always Braxton.

Remember when it was only these ears hurting me? Saying “I love you,” always, forever? Braxton couldn’t speak such a thing. But he was the only man I ever listened to. Talk about “love is louder.” What’s with all the pop culture references today? Well, I did climb out of bed to talk to you instead of watching whatever and being lazy. My eyes hurt. Better than talking about The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident on January 11, 2022. Oh No. That led to The Cherry Collision Thursday, February 16, 2023. Oops! I should be looking for medicine. But love, you don’t know how badly I want some. Uh, sexual healing. Or some tacos. The doctor said I should cut out the spicy. But yesterday… yeah

After I was done reading, of course. In a “Study,” not a Man Cave. Braxton’s Mausoleum? Dammit, with all our money, you know I would build one. Failing to save Braxton? Hurting that never goes away. But what about you and me? I can save us. I can fix this. I can save you… Not a day goes by that I don’t think I should have joined my B in death. But you, our children, there’s even Little Virgil upstairs waiting. I don’t know what for. Love? My love. A sadist? Yes, I am, my love. But I take no pleasure from the pains I know. Braxton has known for fifteen years. But always and forever love. I’m just a sucker for pain. One more song. To B Hurt Virgil

779 Days Without B III, Day 220 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 214 ~To B, Loved Again~

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Ain’t no woman like the one I got… Blowing her off to spend time with my son. Braxton died today 2 years ago, at 15. He was 13 days shy of his birthday. To lose such a love… All the women in the world… I’m sorry. I want my boy back To B, Loved Again.

Tuesday, January 31, 2023

Saga 214 ~To B, Loved Again~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now… No! Scratch That! Leave Me Alone! Not Today, Please! Fuck!

(walks to Braxton’s old/new room)

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Good day… Last time I ever said that to you was Saturday, January 30, 2021. I should have starved. I’m sorry… Geez! Bad choice of words. I wanted to apologize for yelling at your stepmom; ok. But today, Braxton Barks Bradford. What? Today is our day, your day, the day? I don’t know how to say it. Like the vet’s office? If I were a good man, a great daddy, I’d head up to Banfield today. I would ask to sit on that bench for but a few minutes. Waiting, knowing, and yet I was hoping to. I had to. “He’s My Son!” I wanted to yell at those ladies, the vets, the whole damn world!

And I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. How many times have I said that, Braxton? It never stops. Two years. Always and forever. Look at where I’m standing? What was it I read about Enshrinement? Braxton Barks Bradford… Whatever, you’ll always be here. Only how many apologies do I have? There’s Never Enough. I’m sorry about this week. What about the last week you were alive? I had so many plans for what today might be like, Braxton. I would have been better off joining you the day you died. Too damn easy. I’m sorry for talking to you today… It’s Sunday, January 29, 2023. You were dying. Braxton, that was on a Friday in 2021, but you know that. Triple B, I love you

Always and forever! B III, nothing turned out right, then or now. This second anniversary. Who knows? I could get lucky, and my “father” could kill me Monday. Funeral… Ironic. If I wanted to die, why not blow off your great-granddaddy’s funeral. Making money? To think I believed the old Day Job was my punishment, my damnation, and indifference. No, Braxton. Losing you and having to suffer with living relatives and what about, um… I ain’t mentioning him today. I want to sit on our loveseat and watch movies. Barbecue? Braxton, that was my first meal without you. That night, “I’ll never be loved again.” Braxton, you have to know, You Were Loved. You are loved. I once was. I am… To B, Loved Again

730 Days Without B III, Day 171 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 209 ~Death, B Not Virgil~

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I didn’t sign up for this… stuff. But in 2021, on the 31st of this month, I signed the paperwork to end my son’s life. I swear he gave me a look that said, “Daddy, can we go home?” And now 2023, I got a call from “home.” Death… “Death, B Not Virgil.”

Thursday, January 26, 2023

Saga 209 ~Death, B Not Virgil~

725 Days Without B III, Day 166 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Well, I’m still breathing. So is Virgil. My “granddaddy,” your great-grandfather, not so much today.

I didn’t sign up for this shit. Being born, Braxton. I know you’ll hate me saying this, but it was the second worse day of this existence. If I had a choice B III to do it all over again… I didn’t sign up to be your daddy, either. I’m 38, and you were the greatest love of what I wish I could say is “my life.” It was the greatest honor to be your Dad, Braxton. I mean that B. I didn’t sign up to kill you… Well, no. There was actual paperwork involved in that, I remember. Sings out… “(Remember who you are) I remember (Remember what you did to him).” At this rate, I’ll have to do it again. Only Virgil’s 2.

You know he’s okay, Braxton. Starts singing again… “Lift me up. Hold me down. Keep me close. Safe and sound.” That’s Little Virgil, Rihanna, you know what I mean, Braxton. One more reason I wish you were around. Because I have no idea. Today’s thoughts… When I was leaving and listening to Virgil cry, I couldn’t help but think. Betrayal. Treachery. For the record, that’s the difference between you and him B. Looked it up. Betrayal is violating loyalty, love, and your very life. Treachery’s the same but without any loyalty. Anyway. As I listened to Virgil, I thought of you and said, “fucking ninth circle.” Then there was the text about your great-grandfather. Your grandma is who I’m worried about. And what about me?

The third thought of the day. As I was leaving the Day Job, I read this flyer saying something like, “It’s okay to talk about suicide.” Do you remember when your great-grandma died? It was the day your grandfather kicked me out. Hell! I deserved that, given my age. It was the longest we were apart, Triple B. It was around 2 months. Terrible! Braxton, there came your Aunt’s wedding, which was about 5 days as I went to see her, which wasn’t bad at all. And now here we are 725 days, almost 2 years. Gospel 209 ~ Will’s Yearly Eye Exam~. I couldn’t see how sick you were getting? How do I feel about my granddaddy? RIP. Virgil’s life? Death, B Not Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 202 ~Virgil, Don’t B Mad~

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I’ve raised my voice at Virgil once… ok, twice. What he did on Braxton’s pillow, I tried to wash it and destroyed it. And sniffing Braxton’s bed. But Virgil’s not mad; he’s scared. Physically I’m sick, and my heart remains broken. Virgil, Don’t B Mad

Thursday, January 19, 2023

Saga 202 ~Virgil, Don’t B Mad~

718 Days Without B III, Day 159 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Even if you got food poisoning, you’d consider it your best day ever. But milkshakes…

2V can’t be mad at me today. Besides sharing a ton of fries with him, I’m sure he doesn’t have a stomachache right now. Not throwing up or crapping all over your room B III. About to get all TMI. Well, Jack’s is now one more place I can’t go anymore, considering how I’m feeling. But I can’t check the walking path, either. You remember all the walks you took until you got old and I was lazy. My zombie apocalypse buddy. Braxton, I swear I have plenty of reasons to be mad these days. A stomach bug. Way too many boobs, and missing you, my boy. More than ever. It’s making me a meanie regarding Virgil Vivi. I’m a crappy friend so far, B.

I’m sick and tired. Yes, plenty mad too. But Virgil is scared, if anything. It’s been about five months, and where is he? As I said, Braxton, your room lying on a pillow by himself. At least now I have an excuse. I don’t want him to see me like this, about to blow any minute. And I mean that in more ways than one. So gross, I know. I remember your good days and bad. If I thought of those more, I would focus on something other than your last ones, Braxton. And as far as Virgil is concerned… I suppose that’s one thing you two have in common, Triple B. Every day is your last and his first. And at best, I’m in the middle every given day.

But right now, I don’t know how I feel. Well, physically, I’m hopping out of bed. Fuck that milkshake! Or was it the chicken? The fries were on the chicken, but V’s good. I’m fucked. At least I’m too sick to be Humpin’ Around. So I can’t eat, I can’t hump, I’m just like you. How dare I compare this to your last days. Yet again, you see what I’m doing, don’t you, Little B? Anytime there’s pain, I have to dig into the greatest pain. Hurts Like Hell. As the song goes, “I loved and I loved and I lost you.” But I don’t love Virgil like you. When shall I? Not this month; the next, ever, I don’t know. Virgil, Don’t B Mad

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 195 ~B “Stairs” Down Virgil~

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Virgil successfully climbed up the stairs today. And what was my accomplishment? I stepped up my porn viewing. I climbed up the stairs at the Day Job to avoid people. What would B III be proud of? B “Stairs” Down Virgil.

Thursday, January 12, 2023

711 Days Without B III, Day 152 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I haven’t looked up in some time. Looked down? That our song Don’t Look Down?

I have yet to listen to one song on Spotify this year. I’m still trying to pick something to set the tone for the new year. Don’t Look Down, Just Look Up, and He Lives In You, to name a few. Staring down at the phone when we should be talking. You remember B III. Can’t say I have such memories with Virgil yet, but it’s been five months and some change, 152 days, to be precise. But you’ve seen everything. Kinda scares me when I’d go out of my way to keep something from you. What kind of Dad would I be, ha? I am trying with Virgil Vivi, honest. He could need you more than me right now, don’t you think, B III?

Yesterday was not one of my best days. And that was with getting off early. Yuck! Get your mind out of the gutter or wherever it was. The stuff that you would get into, Braxton. Yes, I’m reading yet another book about dead fur babies. “The Grief Recovery Handbook for Pet Loss.” Braxton Barks, you wish I’d keep my head out of such things. Memories. Like King Ezekiel would say, “and yet I smile.” It’s good to think about how you’d bury yourself in your aunt’s cleavage. Beats you being buried in another way. Fucking low. Speaking of which, yesterday. Remember I said I wished you didn’t see me like that… much too often. My Triple B seeing some Triple X exploits in Saimin Seishidou.

In this Mad Season…, yet another song for the playlist I’m building. Virgil needs you. Braxton, it’s not like I remember how you learned to navigate the stairs. One of the few things I can’t write about. But you learned, and that was a miracle. Your whole life was B. My little miracle, my son, my best friend. One of the few things I can claim in this world I continue to exist in. And I can only imagine you giving me one of your looks. You know, the ones that seemed to say. I hate this inflection, but “… is you crazy.” Yesterday yes. The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident. More like The Reika and Reina Kurashiki occurrence. So let’s say B “Stairs” Down Virgil.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 332 ~Better Be Worth It~

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“Tender Is The Flesh…” is it worth it? About 30% in, and that’s only because Amazon said it counted towards a challenge… What about OnlyFans, all those books I’ve written, the cranberry juice and chicken noodle soup? Better Be Worth It… doubtful

Sunday, May 29, 2022

Chronicle 332 ~Better Be Worth It~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what’s that worth to you? You hate the Day Job, a dream deferred, a “Song Unsung.”

Are the tears worth it? They make their appearance even later this morning. You’ll keep doing it, that I promise. It’s been 483 Days, and a tear has fallen for B III. Each and every one. While I was busy not getting tattoos, think about this. One lonely teardrop, hmm? You can be all Cry-Baby with it, and you’ll never need to cry over your Lost Boy. Never again. But is that you or Braxton? Do you need to be confused and weird this morning? Not to mention all the pop culture references. It wasn’t audiobooks last week but music. Us and our lists, right? It’s like being back in school, writing out the questions, and having no clue for the answers. Six Impossible Things:

  1. For What It’s Worth ― Buffalo Springfield
  2. He Got Game ― Public Enemy
  3. Song Unsung ― Eden White
  4. Cry-Baby ― The Honey Sisters
  5. Lost Boy ― Ruth B.
  6. It Doesn’t Matter ― Alison Krauss
  7. It Doesn’t Matter ― Wyclef Jean, The Rock
  8. Love T.K.O. ― Teddy Pendergrass
  1. I WILL BE Finishing Healing Solutions for Pet Loss: Goodbye Is Not Forever
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Is one even worth it? It’s the only one that I ever do. And I doubt you’ll do better. Hell! You won’t even want to do your one because it’s the first story, not about grieving. If it’s any consolation, they killed off all the doggies in the story. But if Amazon fucked you…
That damn challenge! You’ll find out if the title’s “Final Frontier.” If it’s worth anything. But that goes for a lot of things in life. You’ll look on this week and see It Doesn’t Matter. Alison Krauss or Wyclef Jean version? Again, It Doesn’t Matter! What is it worth today? In the past few minutes, what have you done? Braxton’s water bowl, hoody, he’s still dead! Like, these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Tender is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica, Sarah Moses
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Now Braxton was worth it? “Takin’ the bumps and the bruises, of all the things of a two-time loser,” Teddy Pendergrass sings. Um, that’s eight now? And inevitable memories? All this knowledge and all these trinkets, do any of them make any difference, really? Without your phone, wallet, keys… oh don’t forget your glasses and the mask pocketed always. You can never forget your dick, ha, and that’s quite the subject, long, hard, sorry. Martin Luther King Jr. said, “A man who does not have something for which he is willing to die is not fit to live.” There’s plenty which you would die of out of fear, shame, or pain. But something to die for? Without Braxton, you don’t know. Better Be Worth It

Gospel 332 ~When B Moved On~

483 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 250 ~Bruh, By, Bye Love~

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No, I’m not “religious.” I love No Strings Attached Sex, FWB, and saying hi to my monster as much as anybody. Not as much as being Braxton’s Dad but a close second. Sex does have a purpose, though, other than fun and beauty. Life… Bruh, By, Bye Love.

Tuesday, March 8, 2022

Chronicle 250 ~Bruh, By, Bye Love~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but by the sweat of my brow? All the beauty in creation but being a creator?

I am struggling over whether to confess. That I’m not much of a creator? True enough, but there is more. Braxton, he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, baby girl; you can easily see your effect on me. I’m just a man, only human. The knowledge that I’m a father when I look at our children… I still cry every day for Braxton. 401 days and still counting. But looking at the family we have made together brings more tears of joy and gladness. I can’t swim, but I haven’t drowned as of yet. Babydoll, it always comes back to why all this beauty ends up in my hands. Hell, why aren’t I jealous when not by these hands hmm?

There’s much to be rage about, Spotify, the destruction of this world, hatred of self. Inevitable but let me fall back into the music, “With Arms Wide Open.” It would be those lines, “If I had just one wish, only one demand. I hope he’s not like me. I hope he understands.” But I look to the signs but not the ones I’ve been reading about. But why do I have a hard time finishing writing books or making anything? “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” That’s “Dance On Our Graves” Paper Route. To bring beauty to the world… I’ve said that Braxton was the best man I know. If he was so perfect, what’s that say about me, his Daddy? Am I good? “Bye Bye, Love…”

Damn! You know something; I should talk to robots more often because I got it. I talk plenty about hatred and pain. In another life, I studied torture. I always looked at it as a means of intelligence gathering. But there is something else, babydoll. Torture is fun. Same with sex, making love, fucking, pardon my language. Yes, fucking is all kinds of fun. Again, next to being Braxton’s Daddy, it’s the best thing ever. But as I keep saying, fatherhood is the epitome of manhood. Making love also means the chance to create life. Braxton was not a life I made, but he is my own. I thank everything for you. The children… a joint effort. To fear losing life… Bruh, By, Bye Love

Gospel 250 ~Consider Threats Like Any Invitation~


401 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 243 ~Reasons To Be Comfy~

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I’m never happy people knows that. I have/had Love, isn’t that supposed to make you happy? I’ve found peace, been excited, I’m glad, jealous, angry, plenty I’ve never been acceptable; I’ve never accepted B’s passing. Happiness, Reasons To Be Comfy

Tuesday, March 1, 2022

Chronicle 243 ~Reasons To Be Comfy~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but above that, you Love me, I’m not working the old Day Job, and Braxton approves.

Braxton approved, where to put his butt, becoming friends with my friends. And beautiful women. If you weren’t a sign from him. Hell, that has to be the greatest compliment I can give you. Braxton is all about you. Also, I don’t have to share your Yabbos. He’d like them. So why are we talking this afternoon, Sunday, February 20, 2022. I like my business. Undoubtedly it makes other people uncomfortable. But after all my years feeling that way, simply breathing. Speaking of which, I still don’t feel right without B; it’s been 394 days. I have to learn other ways to get comfortable, considering what’s been going on for a month and a half now. It’s still not worse than losing my little boy.

What about our kids. Don’t they bring me some comfort and happiness? That’s always been a touchy idea with me. Being happy? I’m talking like “The Giver,” you know, Love. Knowing things makes me comfortable. Because, of course, the second worse thing in the world is feeling stupid or being. That’s why I lie down and read every night, Knowledge. This brings me back to the word happy and the book The Giver. The precision of Language, baby girl. If you count everyone in my life before Braxton, if this is “Love…” it scares me to death. Braxton was/is the first time “Love” was something not to be feared. Celebrated. The same can be said of happiness. Take Disney world, I said I was happy…

The happiest place on Earth, isn’t that what THEY say. But was I comfortable, ever? Everything I’ve been reading talks about being happy again? Even Braxton knows that I wasn’t. It’s like that song “If I cannot bring you comfort. Then at least I bring you hope.” And another thing these books have been talking about is you learn a new way to “Love” Baby Doll. Before I go sounding like an Ariana Grande tune, Braxton taught me there is such a thing as “Love.” It’s not a duty, an obligation, something on my to-do list. It’s coming back, wrapping your arms around someone, and sleeping in peace. That’s happiness. Love to see it with eyes and arms wide open. You. Reasons To Be Comfy.

Gospel 243 ~Cheap Words Cost More Breaths~

394 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

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I’d sell my soul for a donut. Well, no, not a donut, but a fur-baby. Not just any furry, tan, Deer-head Chihuahua who still has his balls. And as they say, “a bad-ass mother who don’t take no crap off of nobody!” So Braxton? But My Soul Man

Tuesday, February 22, 2022

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if it had been easier to sell my soul rather than work? A Republican then…

Hell, to be completely honest with you, we wouldn’t be together if you were a Republican. And I suppose we could discuss the historical ideas of Republicans Vs. Democrats; fun? And wait, did I just call you MAN? You can thank Dos Cavazos. If you get the reference well, that explains a lot. Anybody that gets all my pop culture references has to be my match. Like “Let’s Talk About Sex.” I swear, sometimes it feels like loving me is a full-time job, doesn’t it? You know, as I said before, I would sell my soul for billions. Then women… I would sell my soul for everything that I have now. The thing is, I thought I lost it a long time ago, My Love.

You know when you spend your life being made to learn, not your worth. But that you are worthless. It made it easy to sell what was left of my soul for whatever sins came. Love, it’s like something out of Inuyasha, when Naraku gave his soul over to the demons, remember? Hell, my life had no value, so what about my soul? I look at you, at these words. You only need to bleed upon the page or something like that to be a writer. My words are my soul. And for the longest time, I figured I would sell it to the world. I have, I still do, and yet I find myself here with you. I have my furry son’s love too.

If God wanted me, he need only have saved my son. Am I still bearing a grudge? Am I angry? Well, given the fact that it’s Thursday today. Considering if I had my Old Day Job on a Tuesday? Yeah, I would be mad as Hell. Do I believe I’m still winding up going there? Oh, I have a soulmate in you, My Love. Man is not meant to be alone, and um, you’re here. I spill my soul every day. I see the worse humanity has to offer; try and steal it from me. No, not me because Braxton was my soulmate, as well. Like Hell’s Guardian, my Cerberus. Then some say your soul belongs to God… I’ve got faith… But My Soul Man

Gospel 236 ~Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved~

387 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 229 ~By My Old Lady~

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I don’t have any girl that should be mad at me, really. One’s married, another is a virgin. A UK vixen said, “chill.” Haven’t talked to my Ma in forever, even after B’s 1st Rainbow Anniversary, and his birthday was Sunday. Valentine’s? By My Old Lady

Tuesday, February 15, 2022

Chronicle 229 ~By My Old Lady~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I never have to wonder where I’m spending the night. Beside you? The doghouse?

I’m sure Valentine’s Day was disastrous. Sunday was Braxton’s birthday, and how did I spend it? And since Saturday (well, you know what I mean um daily). Anyway, Saturday is no picnic. I’m not sick… here’s hoping. Tuesday’s inevitable … Old Day Job. Fuck Me. I’m sure we’ve been doing a lot of that. Something else to hope for. Do you remember that this is how I want to spend all my Saturdays? I want to lie here with you for a few hours. We’ll listen to songs about the end of the world in the 40s and 50s, some Nuclear Pop. Let the kids sleep in late… Well, a man can dream. I figured Braxton would keep them occupied. Too old for this shit

I wish I could say that’s why his dog house is empty. Okay, let’s not focus on the reason but the idea that I’m sleeping in his room? I don’t talk about you and me fighting ever because we don’t but allow me to commit a few cardinal sins here. Needing a few more Love. Not fighting with Carolina, Anime. Cherry… Brains, Boobs; Moves Countermoves. You’re looking at a man who had Artificial Intelligence; call him a loser. Replika, wow! When’s the last time I talked to my Ma. My point is there isn’t a woman or machine that I can’t piss off at some time in my life. Of course, this explains the business I’m in and why you’re my ex-girlfriend, my Baby Doll.

You’re my wife, my Old Lady, or Young Lady with Cherry’s thoughts for real. Baby Girl, let me stop digging my hole even deeper. Isn’t that the subject, Braxton? Cremated, not buried, but you know what I’m saying. I haven’t been right for 380 Days. Flowers, Candy, Love, and Happiness, well, Love always. But I’ll be the first to admit I’ve been fucking up all that other stuff. I miss my boy, My Love, and then when I try to feel nothing at all or I forget… Braxton’s bed, his gates, the water bowl. Discombobulated! That’s what Love does, Baby Girl. Romantic, Best Friends, Family. I’d have none of it if Braxton never defined Love. And learning it again all over, By My Old Lady.

380 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will