“I don’t understand, “ I said, and I watched my mother sigh, disappearing into the long, dark hallway to return with a rhombus in hand, coming to sit next to me, fiddling with the jagged stone nervously.
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#im a writer wheeeeeeee
Being Political, a poem by Jean M. Hodges
PoemsMy name is political
Self-Medication, a poem by Jean M. Hodges
PoemsI’m really interested in how people self-medicate
How they suvive off of blow-pops and unhappy days
How they survive off pretty lies like the finest bread and wine
How they take in the drug of existense like an addict on a binge
G(r)eeks & the Cemetery Block, a short story by Jean M. Hodges
Fiction, Short StoriesWhoever thought it was a good idea to put a cemetery so close to a high school?
