Tiktok Poems Novels & Stories

😹😹😹😹😹😹 Follow my social media too. @tarmah__ on Ig @tarmah___ on tiktok Okay bye...

she informs and I suddenly go widened “I know for a fact that you don’t use TikTok because you feel like majority of the people that use TikTok are wasting their life on TikTok, but it was quite shocking when I saw “little moon” under people you may know and the info is saying that from my contact and displaying the name that I saved your number as below do I called to confirm if you suddenly decided to join TikTok or somebody just created an account with your phone number” she interrogates and I bite my lips.

A new username. A new identity. Something anonymous. Empty. Untraceable. The account took five minutes to create. Five minutes to re enter the world that was tearing me apart. My hands were cold when I opened the first app. TikTok. The first video loaded instantly. My face. Paused mid interview. Zoomed in. A red circle around my expression. The caption read: “WATCH HER BODY LANGUAGE. SHE CONFESSED WITHOUT CONFESSING.” The creator spoke with breathless excitement.

[Lila pov] Saturday afternoon and I'm sitting on my bed in sweats and an old hoodie, scrolling through I*******m like it's my job. Some girl I follow is posting TikTok-style dance trends—these new moves that are supposedly "easy" but are absolutely not easy, and I'm stuck between wanting to learn them for cheering and knowing my shoulders are gonna hate me if I do.

"I don't know, I like them." I smiled at his genuine beaming expression, "You can make a vlog of your time here, Dean. No one's gonna kill you for it and it'll be fun." "You think so?" "Sure." I nodded. "You can post it on tiktok too and-" "Oh, no, no, no, no, no." "What?" I laughed. "I don't even have a tiktok account." "Why not? Tiktok's fun." I examined his expression. "Wait, you're not one of those people who think TikTok is female, are you?"

Aleksei suddenly pulls the car over. I clutch my chest and exhale sharply, relieved. I never even gave him my hotel’s address. God only knows where he was actually taking me. “Let me see that,” he says, snatching the phone out of my hand. He squints at the screen. “This is the TikTok?” He snorts, unimpressed. “So I’m considered an idiot for not knowing this?” he mumbles in Russian. “It’s just a platform where people post short videos. It’s kinda fun,” I say, shrugging.

As I scrolled down, I came across a photo. Her account was mostly filled with videos of her singing. She rarely shared photos. In this one, she was sitting at a table, hand on her cheek, gazing out at the sea. My eyes drifted to the caption underneath: They do not know, those who do not live alone, What fear silence brings to a person; How a person speaks to themselves; How they run to mirrors, Longing for a soul, They do not know. She’d shared a poem by a Turkish author.