“Most people, don’t do it that way,” lacing his fingers behind his head, he leaned back and let out and a sigh, “Most people,” he smirked under his peppered mustache, “don’t really see any thing wrong with leaving things the way they are.” I leaned forward, layed my gun on the table, and offered him a 40 year smile, “We’ll then, good news for ya, I am not most people.”
Copyright 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
Again, it is, that the moon siphons my ambition.
Stories on life support, their pulses faintly scratched in the black book I keep in my pocket.
I have wanted to have a book put together by now.
And yet, I have none.
Blogging, is my daily driver. To write. To have consistency.
I have a flash fiction story, in my orange notebook, written quickly in red. Now it hungers to be read.
Excuses to not write, there are none.
…
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
A story. A rose.
Beautiful, if given now.
Pages turn. Petals fall.
…
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
I am a shadow,
between me and fire, He stands,
without Him, I burn.
…
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
Sleep pulls at the backs of my eyes.
I suddenly notice my head is heavy,
a weight hangs inside my skull
pulled by yarn made of twisted clouds,
pulls my eyes into my neck.
A cool pillow, swallows my face.
The lights go dark,
shadows dance on my eyelids,
as sleep
pulls me into another realm.
…
Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert
Zachary W Gilbert, Author 