Oh! How the ocean flows

against the large boulder rocks

Why do you keep me here?

I yearn to be set free!

I hide tender secrets

deep within me

of mythical creatures

with tails for legs

and tentacles- one, two and three

They drown me with incessant thoughts of

"Oh, I long to visit the land,"

Where they have skin instead of gills

and strange things such as hands

But I like it here, in this nice blue

where it's gloomy and cold

Be gone my child, I shall miss you so,

Oh! How the ocean flows.

Pray, aren't you a Wednesday's Child?

it evokes a sense of longing in me.

A longing to write, a longing for the good things.

I imagined munching toast today.

A slice of wholemeal bread toasted crisp for 2.5 minutes,

the a heavenly spread of peanut butter

before I fold it along the middle and take a huge bite.

It pains me to admit that I am that hungry yes,

but I've only got 15? days to go.

And that's 25 days without lunch, mind you.

I've got another half hour to go before

I can put solids in my mouth.

Hush now stomach, you will soon be fed!

Ah, look at me, talking to one of my dear internal organs.

I must be loony, indeed.

Ain't long 'till we meet up again, dear one.

I don't think December's that far away.

But for now I bid you adieu,

and I quote you:

Suddenly, (I) just want a hug. One that squeezes out the breath of me and crushes my ribs.

The living Austen, that is.

How are you faring? Is school treating you kind?

I myself am wasting my life away.

Shame.

The Hermit

I feel so tiny in this small shell.

I was forced to seek refuge in this carbon copy of a home

as my family are all gone.

Gone, gone

the nets took them away.

Scary things, these nets are.

They plunge deep into my world

and just like that,

everything I once knew and loved is gone.

They took my old home too,

but fortunately I had managed to wriggle out of before they got me.

Those cruel, savage beasts!

I curse you and your creator.

I curse you and your creator...

Now I am all alone in this dark and gloomy place.

Foreign fishes swim past; the octopus just gave me a strange stare.

Somehow I think that maybe it is better if I gone with the net after all.