A Writer Alone

A writer sits alone and writes.
She looks up and seeks to pretend.
To be romantic, more romance, less superficiality.
The feathers around the edges of her catch the wind.

"Not now..." she says.
"Never."
Always in the future.
We will be together in the future.

"Always..." she whispers.
To herself...
Already, in another day dream.
I dream day and night.

"Angel" she thinks.
"Angels carry me."
My friends, no foes.
The friendships I let drift away.

A new day, a fresh start.
Hold me tight.
"Hold me in your heart."
Hold me there.