A Thousand Shards

A pulsating organ to which
I have no use
For it gives nothing but pain
a thousand shards of glass
And it brings me
To my knees
Where I weep
For I can do naught
But suffer in silence
My orificies sewn up
Not a word they say
Shhh, silence is golden
Might as well have
Me done there and then with
If only I could use
But one piece of the thousand shards
It would be a good feeling
To see rivelets of red
Flowing from the twin sources
To the bottomless seas below
Making a self-portrait
Deep in red
Where I would be released
From here