I sorted my life in records, In rankings, damage, dust. I could name every bad decision And still not trust the trust. Not what you’re like—what you like, That’s the shape that cuts through me. I rewind the same old reasons Till they hiss back: maybe, maybe. What came first? Music or misery? Did I love pop Because I was blue? Or was I blue Because I loved pop? It’s not what you’re like, It’s what you like. I make lists To keep from falling through, But the list Learns my name. I wanted order, not forgiveness, A chart, not a wound. But every side A, side B, cassette crack Brings the same old room. And if I’m honest, I was never After proof, just after air— Trying to hear myself clearly In the hiss of my own stare. What came first? Music or misery? Did I love pop Because I was blue? Or was I blue Because I loved pop? It’s not what you’re like, It’s what you like. I make lists To keep from falling through, But the list Learns my name. What came first. What came first.
