Tag: Son

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 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 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 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 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