Unsteady

by Peyton Corinne

Blaring Deftones’s “Cherry Waves”

purr taste

Steely Dan to Ethel Cain to Harry Styles in the same hour.

taste

I wonder if I could convince her to She’s the Man herself onto the men’s hockey team so I never have to be on the ice without her.

The girl can read chapter-long filthy sex scenes without a flinch, but tell her a boy thinks she’s pretty and she turns into a tomato.

I’ll take all the anger she needs to release; I’ll be her punching bag if I need to.

i cant believe i have to tell a man to stand up but girl

“You don’t need to say anything right now, okay? I can love you enough for the both of us.” “For now,” I blurt. He smiles, and I can see the glimmer in his warm eyes. That he understands the words I’ve given are a promise. “For now, kotyonok.”

Rhys Koteskiy could never be confined to just one song—he’s a symphony, a never-ending playlist that I want to repeat forever.

He’s burned into me, I think, like a brand. I’ll never recover from him.