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Image for the poem Big Mouth

Big Mouth

I killed Billy Mays.
I whispered his death sentence to my television,late one night.
The next day, Billy Mays had died.
It wasn't a curse.
It was, "Next thing you know you'll be dead"...and he was.There had been a quite a few deaths.
 
Another time,I slandered my neighbor. As my visitors laughed,I gave stories of his wild behavior.
He was usually drunk,and belligerent.
He was more than a little intrusive...if he could get his foot in the door,he just walked in...terribly nosy.
His screen door,wore his face print.
He meant well..he was just looking out for us.
He died of a heart attack,right at that moment...as the words left my mouth.
 
Twice I've killed with my mouth...my words...my mockery.
Now my words make a mockery of me.
(c) 2016 Jamers Mitchell
Written by Jamers_Mitchell
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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