Poignards

Every word cuts and bleeds,
As I flail everyone around me,
'Til wisdom dulls me down to size.
For this, I apologize.

Against high walls' boards,
Monoliths of culture, institution,
Humor's neon notes mark my words;
Cutting knife-words turn to pins.

Go unobserved, and points turn inward.
What doesn't kill me makes me stronger.