A Never Ending Show

My liver
I set it on display
For men to stab at it
With curved knives,
Their edge sparkling with sharpness.

Sometimes the cut is quick and short.
Often the wounds are deep, the pain excruciating.

They jab the knives inside and roll it.
As if trying to unearth some mystery.

It hurts and bleeds with every single stab
But my liver recovers
Though the stab marks never fade
Reminding my brain of the story of pain.

Not immune to stabbing
My liver waits for the next knife edge
It will be stabbed again.

Want the show to stop?
My brain hates my liver.