Understatements.

My legs are connect to the floor
But I cannot feel the pressure.
There's something in my hand,
Deep red and it's thumping
And slimy with some twisted wire.
It has a voice, weak at times,
But right now, it keeps screaming.
Make it stop, make it stop!
I hate what's happening again!
Ink stained fingers and molested pages,
I want you back home!
I cannot keep the air clean,
Or my body from shaking.
The pressures finally becoming known.
Do you think I'll be okay?