Make it a dagger, I prefer the word

Dogs bark, men lie
And I crawl before truth.
How magic her call,
A white angel hiding in my tequila cocktail.

Poetry is not for dreaming or about dreams
If the pen is not a sword
Able to rip the paper to find real skin
And not shit, not arrogance.

No make it a dagger, not a sword,
I prefer this word.