“If I had a Suicide Letter”
By Horror Novelist, Daton L. Fluker
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?”
“How can I pull myself back-up?”
“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?
I am Daton L Fluker the Horror Novelist. Words don’t affect us the same. Words fail me.
Words build your torn up dreams. Words give you direction.
Words hurt my bones.
We live in consultation. No matter how information affects us (even if we don’t win) it’ll equipped us with the means to confront our fears.
I’m a different type of emotion.
I’m a different type of entertainer.
I’m a different type of star.
I’ll massage your shoulders, and give you your favorite flavored milkshake, while hand feeding you nightmares in an adequate climate.
Ride with me or die by me. Wipe blood from your tongue. Nightmares exist in our cadences.
Loyalty is unyielding when we don’t walk with friends.
Why does war grow when men have the ability to collaborate to entrench darkness?
Because nightmares as you and I won’t die without contracts.
We need love to my dear darknesses.
Because we are beautiful fowls spreading or wings, and we want more consideration. Because we want more unification.
Forgetting darkness? We were here first, they will see us rise. They forgot about monsters! They forgot that we live off ditch water and still are free.
Why war when you don’t know who will fight with you?
Let’s remain stagnant in shadows…
They forgot about a human’s ingenuity to live humble and to live in obscurity. They forgot about our hearts.
Our world fades away with lascivious memories.
You made me feel empty the last time we spoke. Why can’t you just please me the way I want? Why can’t you make me feel good after you broke me down?
A slave serves on his knees and cries out to an angel, “Can you love me? I beg.”
She replies, “I can never love you because I’m gay.”
Nightmare baby, please, love me with lust. Nightmare baby, get on your knees in front of me with your watery mouth. Nightmare baby kiss me.
Light left then darkness came with-ought warning.
A human said, “how did you get here?” Darkness said, I never left your side.
“Dare I say, pleased to meet you?” I’m pleased to meet you to Madam. You are so elegant. I’ll kiss your hand.
A beautiful woman is what started their misery, and a beautiful women will carefully choose the flowers in her garden.
As the night is tariffed, her slaves steal milk and bread from her table. The goddess sits and watches them burn in agony.
She is their disease.
No matter how they adore her, she’ll never kiss them. She’ll never hear their heartbeats.
But if she wakes up out of a charismatic sleep to hear their hearts, flowers of earth who worship her every breathe will soon rip her apart because she’s irresistible, and she’s amazing. She’s their beautiful nightmare.
Fear burns away when the last flickering avenue light blew chalice plates. Fear carries headless monsters in transcendent hordes.
Did I say something inappropriate? Why can’t I believe in love? Yes, it’s a fantasy, but it could be.
“Am I that disgusting to you?”
If you tell me that I’m gross again, I’d grant you the blackest revenge. Because of belligerence, our nightmares end.
Goodbye my beauty. Goodbye my friend.