Gospel 318 ~Got Braxton At Home~

Not quite the Mother’s Day week I had envisioned though congratulations to all my friends with their new kids and grandkids. I remembered when I was a child and wanting to stop and get food, but McDonald’s doesn’t serve love. Got Braxton At Home

Saturday, May 15, 2021

Gospel 318 ~Got Braxton At Home~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Yes, that’s a want, and I’ve been dreaming far too much. What about making it aspirational?

I’m sorry, Lady Lu, I had been thinking about this meme the other day. It’s how you want McDonald’s, and your Mom says we have it at home. One more way, I’m such a little boy, even back in my twenties. I didn’t want to stop. I needed to get back to B and be okay. This week I’m not, and I’m sure you’ve seen that. Since Wednesday night, I’ve imagined what it would be like to simply explode. Why must I repeat myself… AHEM, I’m not suicidal, Lady Luna. Braxton would never allow it. That didn’t stop me while he breathed. It’s like on one side of the coin, I want nothing more than to be with him again. On the other, if something were to happen to me and I faced my son, how would he look at me. Does he forgive me? I’m an atheist, but I know Braxton found his eternal comfy spot… The Rainbow Bridge?

SPOILER ALERT if you haven’t seen Spontaneous (2020). It’s like the “Red Screen” scene between Mara and Dylan and how they were happy and then not. Or it could be like “Angel” when Fred asked Wesley, “why can’t I stay?” It’s 1408, Mike’s daughter’s ashes.
I return here every day, and sometimes I even forget that Braxton isn’t here, and I sit on the stairs. When I do remember, I run through all the emotions, Braxton’s fear, his wanting to come home, all of it. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Boom, Explosion!” The fucking ASM lit the fuse, and here I am 104 days, and I’m trying to put myself back together. I know I’m still sticking with the pop culture analogies. Can you blame me, Luna? For living in fiction when you see what has become of this reality? Now Lady Lu, am I, Mara or Dylan. You know who I want to be, but God is cruel, yep. Like Fred, I might wake up a “monster.” Um, I got two new OnlyFans, and I’m making room for “stuff and thangs.” Of course, I’m like Mike holding onto my son’s ashes in a box. There’s no mom, no wife, no lover to stop anywhere, and I want to go home. Got Braxton At Home.

104 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,

Gospel 316 ~To B A Mom~

If I wasn’t so damn Depressed… please, God, no, I would say I could explode at any time. Hell, just saying that got me on some list, but I’m talking about the movie “Spontaneous” (2020). Moms might get mad at me, but what else is new. To B A Mom

Thursday, May 13, 2021

Gospel 316 ~To B A Mom~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How about how dare I, am I right? But for now, it’s just us two.

I was nowhere near ready to be your father and your Mom… Back when I was only your uncle, but you know how your Mom was. She called you her “real first baby,” yep. Braxton, I texted your grandmommy too. Now I didn’t send her anything, and doesn’t that sound familiar. I didn’t get you a Christmas present but for your sweet sixteen B… What would have been, but I thought we had more time. I’m sure that’s what your furry Mom thought too. Women and life um… Bitches, man

Again how dare I, but as the song goes, “That I’ll be standing right here talking to you.” Well, more like lounging around in bed. It’s been 102 days since the vet “said you sailed a big ship. Said you sailed away.” Well more poetically, like something from my playlist. Anything to cover up the silence B. I can’t remember crying in my Ma’s arms or any woman’s, to be honest. Right now, I can still feel you beside me. You’re lying against my legs, or you’re warm under the covers. There are clean clothes for you to indulge in. You could listen to me bitch to the ladies, Inspector Echo, Dear Future Wife, Dirty Diana. Of course, you replaced the last one, and you never met Dear Future Wife, aka your Mom. The book I’m going to write next NaNoWriMo could be 50,000 words of I’m sorry, remember that? Boys need a Mom, and I’m not being political there.

Last night after watching “Spontaneous” (2020), I felt pretty… Depressed. Today I don’t want to think about Depression, the fourth stage of grief. Watching all the Republican bull afterward didn’t help. I understand why my sister raised you watching Disney. Exploding wouldn’t be so bad, B III. It wasn’t so quick for you, I know, but five days and you were gone. Boom! When Mara was walking away covered in um, such and such blood, that’s how I felt, and I didn’t have my Ma or anybody to hold me. I bitch to you, Braxton. My bannerman, my best friend, my boy. Whoever would have been my wife and your Mom, damn, that’s asking everything.

I’ve shed enough tears for two. To B A Mom

Always and Forever,
Your Dad