Stained Letters

             I sit in a spinning room. There is needlework on the walls with sayings that dig deep into my skin. I am in the center, with my knees held to my chest, as the world turns. Faster and faster, I am dizzy and sick to my stomach, but it won't stop. After a moment of trying to follow the colors and letters that blur past, I have to put my cheek against my knee and close my eyes. My stomach still won't settle. I made the first move...I pressed the button on the wall that started this endless turn of events. I did not check to look if there was an off button...even if there is, I cannot see it now.
            I know at some point I will become so sick that I will be unconscious to the world, but for right now, I just wish for some end.

      There are colors in my head
       I'm sure they match those
      In my heart.
      It feels as if there are words
      In some unknown language
      That are written there.
      I fear that when I try to read them
      I won't like their message.
      So I am stuck
      In a turning room,
      Ill for all eternity.
      Until I face the stained
      Letters on my heart.