Tag: Pain

Gospel 252 ~Braxton Was Full Of…~

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

Wednesday, March 10, 2021

Gospel 252 ~Braxton Was Full Of…~

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

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

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

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

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

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 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 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 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 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

Gospel 236 ~Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved~

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I don’t want peace, and the quiet is killing me. Let me have my exhaustion and with what my eyes have been doing lately, tuning out, tearing up, taking down every bit of pain as if it would stop my own. “Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved”

Monday, February 22, 2021

Gospel 236 ~Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved~

Hundred And Seventy-Six Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m still not angry about Braxton. Well, how do I know I started talking to you Friday. Say it with me, Madam Justice AHEM “Time-Travel.” What I know for sure is this? I’m not Zen. I don’t know what’s what anymore. I’m still reading anything and everything, well, after crying that Braxton isn’t curled up against me. It’s my fault. I’m the one to blame. Talk about a butt kicking deserved. I have those pamphlets on grief the vet gave me. To this day, I believe I’m in Denial, but Anger?

I don’t know how to describe it. Every morning when I wake up, the living routine. You know when I sleep, I’m gone though I’ve begun to dream again. Nothing about B III, only pain, and don’t tell me you can’t feel it in dreams. I’m usually shocked then, waterworks. Most of the time, I’m on autopilot. My mom asked me do I watch a lot of Dish; anything to break up the silence. Only what I mean is, it’s like that movie Warm Bodies, and I’m “R.” What do zombies do? Who was R before Julie and then without her? B’s not coming back. But what peace I knew…again routine, Denial. Braxton is only outside or under the bed. I joined a club about dogs, but I’m finding people much like myself. Madam J, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. So then I look for more pain and for what, my catharsis?

“It’s easier not to feel. Then I wouldn’t have to feel like this.” R – from the movie Warm Bodies

Disgusting, but how about wishing it was me? I’ll be damned if an animal is in pain. My Braxton suffered. People though… You know the song, “the dreams in which I’m dying…” My side was hurting; I thought I got bitten by something, wishing sicknesses. I’ve been eating more. Now I’ve starved myself for at least a week, but now food is the punishment. I said before I’ve been craving things like onion rings, chocolate, Burger King. Anything Braxton can’t have or that breaks my routine and increases my shame. Some time ago, I saw the police, and while they can pick anything at all… My killing Braxton. I’m Eddie Murphy in The Golden Child; I should be punished, purged, never purified. Hell’s not scary.

Living like this… peace, any thought of Zen’s the crime. Laugh, Smile, Funny Face, Braxton. Zen Ends Butt Kicking Deserved.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 234 ~Don’t Drop Me Braxton~

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I keep on falling. I’m struggling to get out of bed—the tears from my eyes. Or when my phone chimes for my boy. For a split-second, my eyes fall to the floor, or my legs, to his bed. He wouldn’t let me down, right until the end. Don’t Drop Me Braxton

Saturday, February 20, 2021

Gospel 234 ~Don’t Drop Me Braxton~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and still, I would never possess the type of strength that Braxton has. Always and forever.

I was impressed, proud, nearly scared to death when he would walk to his water bowl those last days. If I were to ask God for anything… well, first, it was to save my son’s life. He could have, I could have, and would be more of a bastard if I didn’t let him go. Secondly, it was The Prayer from Quest For Camelot. All I wanted was for Braxton not to hurt anymore. As the song goes, “To a place where (he’ll) be safe.” And that is my failure. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, I like to think that the Pearly Gates needed a Cerberus. Only like I said yesterday that you can’t go asking for vets’ names that showed mercy. I can’t follow B.

I would go without question. Every time there is an ache or pain. When I start to get sick, the first thought that crosses my mind is GOOD. Let me go, let me die, and go be with him. My tethers to this life are so few, and even those ties that bind… strong enough; never like my Braxton. You know death doesn’t bother me, Lady Lu. No, I take that back. The prospect of my death doesn’t irk me. A lot of deaths don’t. I’ve been seeing plenty of it. Lately, people feeling this pain. If mine ended, it would only be because I stopped it, like I ended Braxton’s suffering. Stops me… promise I made to a friend.

I raised Braxton so high, and never once did I consider I’d be begging him to help me up. Twenty days and I still pick up his bed but usually kneel to smell it. His favorite game was once staring at the door, wondering should I go outside or inside. Now it’s up and down from pillows, pill bottles, and my pendant. I remember how he would freak out when I took his collar off; his nails caught the ring. Now when wearing the pendant, it’s like my collar. More like I’m telling myself to be better for him. For his whole last year, I told myself I would be a better father, friend, hell if only somewhat less forgetful.

In my arms, heart, mind, Please Don’t Drop Me Braxton

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Gospel 231 ~Braxton And P Breaks~

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Braxton needs what, and I’m paying who again… Patreon or somebody else? Most of the time, I don’t bother to check my accounts. It might help, though, an exercise that everything is normal but without Braxton. Braxton And P Breaks.

Wednesday, February 17, 2021

Gospel 231 ~Braxton And P Breaks~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… putting that out there as I would, Braxton. Pretending with those aspects of my life now.

Probably should get some air, but I’ve only opened the backdoor once since January 31. Braxton is like me, we both hate the cold, but we would look at the snow. I shouldn’t have said that. Every time I remember Braxton’s eyes, his final look, I break down crying. Prayers aren’t for God, though. I haven’t spoken to God since last month again. It’s one part of my routine that’s broken. There are more tears when I forget, or there’s just no need. This will be the third week, and as I shook his medicine bottles calling “Braxton.” People will be upset or not. It could be both. It’s not like I can call the vet and order more meds. The water company should be thrilled, but not whoever the people are that make bathroom pads. Some are sick of me talking about him. My friends have their own stuff.

Piping up now only to speak to B III. I’m not sure how to stop it; I don’t want to. I’ve said it often enough, every day. “Medicine time,” Night, Night Braxton,” “Just Me Baby B,” I won’t stop myself.

My Olds would laugh at me for talking to myself but with Braxton’s deafening silence…

Postulating any idea of sanity seems out of the question. Will Smith said something to the tune of, does thinking you’re the last sane man make you crazy? Susanna Kaysen wrote, Crazy is you or me amplified. To me, everything about life feels plain wrong. Painful, a crime. It’s why I haven’t done anything, as someone would say, STUPID. My biggest fear was I wouldn’t be here for him. Now 8:00 AM, his meds and water, so I get a bite. 11:00 AM, outside and breakfast. 5:00 PM more water, 8:00 PM meds, and dinner.

Prolonging the pain as long as possible for myself. How long did Braxton suffer? Five days… he was crying Wednesday, stopped eating Thursday, and it goes on. He needed a break. A break from his pops, his father, his daddy. Now that he wouldn’t pretend. Pretending, though, that’s me since the day Braxton Slipped Away. And people talk about puppies. Progressing through grief and other problems. When I want is to believe Braxton is right outside. Braxton And P Breaks.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton