Novel & Cerita Poetic Tweets

I scrolled until I passed the teet from the familiar account. It was Ethan's account then, his rant account about his crush. He used to have a tweet that he retweeted with a quote. His quoted tweet with a picture of ramen and half of my body: DDEA @sekyel dreams do come true (attached photo) His past tweet: DDEA @sekyel ramen wid u someday A smile appeared on my lips. That was posted a while ago. Lots of likes and comments. I check the comments. Many say that he charmed his crush. There is also a prayer and oration reveal. Until now, many people are still waiting for his tweets about his crush.

The most astonishing thing was that every title tried to minister to me so much more that I was confused. There is a poem titled 'HOPE', there was 'VAGUE AS AIR', 'DEATH AND IT'S PEACE' and other incredible poems all written by Trevor. I read each poem and felt as if he was talking to me directly. His choice of words, sentence construction and presentation of life scenarios embedded in words is just beautiful. Now this guy was not just a devilishly handsome man with a great sense of humor but a writing god. Then I came across the piece I termed my best. I read it over and over again muttering each line. The poem is titled 'SPEAK TO YOURSELF' and it reads thus...

“Your voice sounds like you ran a marathon emotionally.” I laughed. “You have no idea.” We gisted. At first, it was light. Safe. The kind of conversation you ease into so you don’t scare yourself. She told me about a ridiculous tweet she’d seen. I told her about someone at the hotel lobby who insisted on calling me “that writer from I*******m” like it was my government name. She laughed, the soft kind, the one that sounds like she’s smiling even when she’s tired. “Must be nice,” she said. “Fame before thirty.”

"Yes." Alana nodded. "My friend has met Yasmin a couple of times at events and managed to add her on WhatsApp and followed her on Twitter. She mentioned that last year, Yasmin seemed to have posted something on Twitter." "What kind of post?" "Yasmin's Tweets are only visible for six months, but the general gist was something like a blessing from heaven. She doesn't remember the exact details, but the photo showed Yasmin with a young woman, looking to be in her 20s."

'The Iridescent Stars; mmh… Typical of tonight. Nneoma read the poem, her voice smooth and steady. I gaze up the night sky What meet my gaze? Myriads of shinning stars They shine like iridescent diamonds Diamonds of sublime beauty They twinkle and shine, twinkle and shine. Giving light to all nocturnal creatures The brilliant stars tell me Tales of life yonder They tell me of great meadows With yew trees, yew trees with amber Fruits, of azure rivers ever flowing Of golden fishes ever swimming

“They do the twin chant thing again?” “In stereo,” I said, flinging a hand toward the hallway like I’d just escaped a crime scene. “Full-on apocalypse poetry. ‘When the sky turns red,’ and ‘the veil is thinning,’ and something-something psychic brain-TikTok. I was just trying to get a granola bar, man.” Jesse shrugged. “Yeah. They’ve been doing that all morning.” “You knew?” He shrugged again. “They’re in a mood.” “A mood? Jesse, they’re prophesying at people! I nearly choked on oats.”

still made my chest tighten painfully. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was a message from Iris Marino, a professor from the Romeronian Academy of Letters. "May God bless you, my child. Your poetry shines, and hiding yourself won't keep it from being seen," Iris wrote. "You won the award, didn't you? I told you this before. You were born to be a poet!" I was momentarily speechless. I recalled how, back in prison, reading and writing were the only things that kept me going—especially poetry.

My family didn't just stop talking to me; they've also made sure I can't get any money from them. I bit my lip and my chest got tighter. I don't know how to live in this world without them. It feels like a punch to the belly to know how bad things really are for me. I feel the weight of my despair. Then, I feel something shake in my hand. A notification lights up on my phone. A tweet from me. The words are out there, raw and unedited: "Need a place to stay." Will provide anything in return. I can't believe how desperate I am as I stare at the television. Did I really just send that tweet?

08:12 • Today • Twitter for iPhone ☆☆☆ you rest my head on my chest with me vowing to love you at your worst as well as best my fingers entwine with yours i look down to your face and heave a sigh i could love you for a thousand years and not get tired, through any lows and high i look at you and you shoot me a smile you ask me "baby are you fine?" i smile and say yes, but you just press a kiss to my lips and hum quietly, with us in this small world of mosaic of broken heartstrings and i wonder if you could see through all my little white lies i trace your face and explore you; an exquisite art maybe after all, you are worth a broken heart. c.t. // me trying to do some song-writing? probably

Hey again So yes I didn't give you guys a new chapter Cause I want to do that next year 2020 is almost over and am so happy I ready hope next year gets better But am realky grateful to God for a lot of things Okay here are some cool Werewolf poetry I happen to have found Note non of these are mine, I simply got them form the Internet, am not trying to impress anyone Am going to be posting them with the copy rite and all So enjoy......