choking insanity

as the records skips

the record is on the needle
      everything is (i am) okay.
f o r  n o w (at least.)
the symphony sounds of fast going melodys (make me prick with apprehension) give me a rush in my veins,
       trickling up through my blood.
and everything is (i am) okay,
for now,
i believe my heart is
   pounding
with (sinful) lovely thoughts.
it seems to be beating with the harmonies
   that are echoing through the vinyl (my soul)

though the sudden
skip!
over a beat and abruptly
everything and anything
falls
into small cracked pieces of
broken notes and yellowing sheets,
and now everything (i am)
not okay.
the rushing lyrics and
the shattered words,
should i start over?
         can i start over?
most things aren't worth a
play again,
but it seems to be the only way out,
though the scattered chords and lines
are attacking the once faultless sounds (of my mind)
and even i'm not certain that the record (i) will be fine again.

because once the vinyl skips,
        so does my entire being.

—
uh this is a panic attack but used as a music metaphor but yeah i think im going to spam this with some poems from my other books bc some of them match the vibe of this so sorry if you recognize some of the things im about to post lmao