We Don’t Grow Up, We Just Change Playlists

A love letter to the songs that never left, and the versions of me that still live inside them.

There’s a playlist I never outgrew.
Not by choice. Not by accident.
Just a few stubborn tracks I carry like old bruises under a black T-shirt.
Chili Peppers. Green Day. Cage.
They live in the scars on my body—tucked behind the knuckles, the collarbone, the ribs.
Songs that didn’t just play for me, they formed me.
Locked in deep. Below logic. Below language.
Th…