My last Valentine’s
by Novelist, Daton L. Fluker

http://twitter.com/datonflukers

How can you say you love me when you never did?
As beautiful as you are, I still see darkness behind your eyes.
Every single second I have extra, I’d kiss and lick your clit ’cause I love pleasing you.
When someone who’s suppose to love you doesn’t show you enough attention, they make their lover feel terrible because of their busy schedules.
You must pay attention to me because I am a certain type of forever. I am a dark forever.

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She will never Love us Anymore…
Written by Daton L. Fluker

http://twitter.com/datonflukers

Your retardiness loses overtime from my sharpness. Don’t let these Baton Rouge niggas get it twisted. I’m the king of darkness.
Infamous me…
Fear guides the masses.
It’s a magical circumference I had to walk mixed with the ingenuity of my broken heart.
You’d forgive me if you knew my struggle. “Why would I be forgiven?”
Maybe… Who understands how the world works? Read the rest of this entry »

The World of an Abecedarian

Written by Horror Novelist, Daton L. Fluker

http://twitter.com/datonflukers

Criminal hearted but enacted in a guitar’s thrusting crown.
The belly of society is around.
The abecedarian faces the devil’s house on his or her own.
As the warriors prepare his or her norce for their nation’s final war-zone.
She dresses in her gown.
However, the roses of serenity are gone.
Because of ordinance and predetermination, flowers are violently grown with the hellion of heavy metal sound.

…………. Extended words……

A new world is built. And it is designed on the pedals of drum beats and with vaccines of words. It’s my world. In Daton L. Fluker’s portal of abandonment; in his dreams of opportunity, and as many hearts pound in sacred fire, a new world will be finish in due time.

PS:
Rock me out baby.

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“If I had a Suicide Letter”

By Horror Novelist, Daton L. Fluker

http://twitter.com/datonflukers

To my beloved Friends:
I touched the panther on its shoulder. At first the cat was quiet and calculative. When I did it again, she ate me alive.
“When will I dream again?”
NEVER.
“How can I pull myself back-up?”
NEVER.
“How can I stand if you are not on my side?”
WITH HIDDEN STRENGTH…
My love, what else would you like me to do? Put a sword through my heart and video tape it?
Read the rest of this entry »

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“How Degradation kills Love”
written by Daton L. Fluker
http://twitter.com/datonflukers

Hate me my beauty, and I will hate you. Forever is forever.
People stop loving you after a while. That’s what hurts the most.
Those who do nothing shall witness a kingdom rise.
Those who stay shall progress.
Those who leave shall be lost and buried under innovation.
Darkness came after love left.
It was the beginning and the ending. Our shadows are the only thing that sustains truth after all.
They become meek. They say “the balloon blows away hard. You’ll explode just to be touched.”
But no one ever comes to help with your sensual desires.
The 2014 man says “I did not want to comfort her.
When I needed beauty to comfort me she left me cold.
Leave I say! Then I did not need beauty anymore.”
Things that are torn ain’t dead nor worn.
Sow it with needles and mend it with patches, open your dreams and break the latches.
When I was ready for her, beauty was lost.
“You are not ready for me” she said.
Buildings ash in flames, dead bodies powder the streets.
“I love my country.”
A phrase that can destroy an entire epic era if what you state is not true.
Maybe you are too commensurable to be loved.
Baby, no one can love you if you believe that you are too exquisite to be taking serious.
The fire that expands through your body when someone touches you, how can you delete that from your essence, from your existence?
I’m weak, but my friend, love is free. So is meat. Nightmares shine on me. I burn in heat. I go forward for I am beast.
I call out to her. The dark one is better seen in flashing lights. Once nightmares are gone, only the final hour exist.
And who am I to say I love you, to say I care. I am nothing. I’m only the muse. I’m a horror novelist with no ability to control my feelings.
How can I adore something so precious and beautiful when I have a mind full of darkness, treachery and hatred. I’m not suppose to, but I love you.
I am strong, but yet I am weak. I cried when you said, “No you can’t love me.”
I’ll become a freak. I promise you, I will never feel again.
It’s right, I speak the truth. I’m rotten because I’m outspoken.
I can make tears fall from your pretty eyes baby-doll because I am corruption.
Your heart divides in pieces. Baby, there’s no way to fill an empty fuel tank after there’s no more stations. Degradation is how it broke.

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“Please, no Black Men”
Written by Horror Novelist, Daton L. Fluker
http://twitter.com/datonflukers
I am the muse, and I apologize that my tongue ashes with the fears of nightmares. But still, beauty can be found in my gums.
Put your ear to my chest. My heart beats slow. Blood pumps through my arteries. You have proof I’m yours and evidence to prove our existence.
However, you’ve forgotten me. That hurts. So, do you think I’ve forgotten your actions?
And the night is like a dark storm. Nothing’s perfect. And the mirror’s image is low, but the dark reflections are still accounted for.
Only if darkness fears you and I. What spins blind-servants are playgrounds attempting to house the frugality of entertainment.
It tilts, it turns. She’s beautiful. They don’t know what to make of me. I blew stardust in their ear. I’m lighting their imaginations on fire. I’m destine to be a burning star.
I post sincerity in my words.
Forever is forever.
They won’t accept that you are a star. They want accept that you are a lovely day and a crumbling heart.
The truth is only as raw as It can be. The lost can lay naked in front of you on a bed of flowers but still not be accept.
Hear the sky with your heart. Let rocking roll music blaze my sweet darkness. I’ll be your whisper baby. I’ll be your muse.
You don’t believe I have a heart? You tell them, no Black Men, please. But you are still sucking my sexy D off at midnight.
Thank you. I need it. You are a heartless whore. And you’ll die heartless. Using me for your pleasure is heartless, and you’ll be buried that way.
I love what you do to me so much. As the muse, I’m grinding concrete that’s why I’m your mortar. That’s why I’m your toy. That’s why I’m filthy.
I’ll do it again for you. I’ll be your muse again, and again. Over and over again. I’ll be your nightmare. My love, you are an Angel.
I’ll give you my heart. I’ll give you my bush ridden tongue. I’ll give the world my crime. They are magic. Here, take my written words. Kneel to me!

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Dedicated to the lovely Tori Lamour

Tori Lamour Twitter
http://twitter.com/ToriLamour

Home Page
http://www.torilamour.com

The Soulless shall Love Again
Written by Daton L. Fluker

Daton’s Twitter
http://twitter.com/datonflukers

I know it’s real, serious, and that you are extremly beautiful, darker than anything I’ve ever seen.
What do we say to beautiful when the night says that your majesty is dark, lustful, even got damn nasty?
They are tedious. Yes, they are serious. That’s why she looks at you the way she does.
Monsters call us.
My dear, I am not an evil person. Those names you called me hurt. I’m a horror novelist, not an evil worshiper.
But you believe that we are the soulless.
Oh, the things I’d do to her in the dark. I’ve seen her in the light. She’s more than welcome to the pleasure she anticipates.
When angels go to bed she forgets us when we close our forever eyes.
Nightmare women abstract kindness into our affliction. When rain comes, a shadow of hatred puddles over our sweet Earth.
Every minute it changes, breaks, lumps, and bleeds in cracks.
What am I?
I gave you my heart love, not thy tongue. I speak through my flesh. I write through thy bone, not thy fingers.
What am I?
When the sun rises. We dream under Mother Nature’s tall vegetation. She tells us to follow the brightest star. Follow the North Star.
Thy should understand thy wrath of their actions. I speak faithfully. Didn’t my tongue get cut out?
You asked, “why do I write dark words?”
Beautiful women fancy sexual positions with my tongue. I’m a sinner. I’m cursed to be a muse. I am darkness, and I am light.
You are told to see her like this because you worship her that way. You gave her your soul.
Does she hear our sniffles? Tears roll down their tearducts.
We are not afraid to speak our hearts. That’s what makes us human.
If we can’t speak then we sleep in our own hell.
My razor heart stuns with warts. Sequels made with dreams never won parts.
No blood is on my tongue; for the night is unsaid, and we conceive thy soulless love.