Author Archives: Jessica Lee

About Jessica Lee

Jessica is a twenty-something poet who performs most of her work on stage in Spoken Word. She has found writing therapeutic since she was child, and has pursued it ceaselessly. She enjoys writing even the most fleeting thoughts and dreams as SensicalRavings. Between long retail shifts, she enjoys writing observational pieces (always with a slant) of locally relevant subjects as ALLGainesville. If you appreciate inspiring, coming-of-age suppositions, become a follower. Though it's not always roses, it's raw!

22 Treatments

From seed to seedling; from dried and cracked and broken, to watered and opening. Sometimes roots are small for stems too tall and the sun shines just a tad too long. Winds blow. Nights turn cold. But, the weather always

22 Treatments

From seed to seedling; from dried and cracked and broken, to watered and opening. Sometimes roots are small for stems too tall and the sun shines just a tad too long. Winds blow. Nights turn cold. But, the weather always

Bygones

I’ll let you knowhow I managed to let you goin a few simple keystrokes. lots of timeand swallowed prideand nowhere else to go but up.

Bygones

I’ll let you knowhow I managed to let you goin a few simple keystrokes. lots of timeand swallowed prideand nowhere else to go but up.

Keep Calm

Maybe we could find a place of majesty and magic. Where the fogs rolls in and stays all morning, where sweetened sunlight trickles down through tree limbs, and soft wild grasses sway across the hills and plains; somewhere fauna dart

Keep Calm

Maybe we could find a place of majesty and magic. Where the fogs rolls in and stays all morning, where sweetened sunlight trickles down through tree limbs, and soft wild grasses sway across the hills and plains; somewhere fauna dart

31:32

The time it takes to know it’s broken, to hear the thoughts you’ve feared be spoken. Fear is first the vast unknown. And then the heartache for the broken home. It’s not that simple. It never is. I doubt I

31:32

The time it takes to know it’s broken, to hear the thoughts you’ve feared be spoken. Fear is first the vast unknown. And then the heartache for the broken home. It’s not that simple. It never is. I doubt I

Care Enough

Love not, lest ye be loved and actually give a fuck. If you care at all, then show it. Show up. Or we will each whither in isolation and frustration. Desiccating from a lack of hope and trust. Without relationships

Care Enough

Love not, lest ye be loved and actually give a fuck. If you care at all, then show it. Show up. Or we will each whither in isolation and frustration. Desiccating from a lack of hope and trust. Without relationships

What Will I Tell My Daughter…

What I would’ve told myself, had I could have known me at a younger age. I would ask about her needs. Follow “follow your dreams” with Where do you see the greatest disparities? In yourself, in the world. Where on

What Will I Tell My Daughter…

What I would’ve told myself, had I could have known me at a younger age. I would ask about her needs. Follow “follow your dreams” with Where do you see the greatest disparities? In yourself, in the world. Where on

Profile

People are nothing like their pictures. They capture nothing of their nature. They portray only their brightest or most beautiful side. That’s not what most days are like. If I had to guess, I’d probably be wrong, but I’d find

Profile

People are nothing like their pictures. They capture nothing of their nature. They portray only their brightest or most beautiful side. That’s not what most days are like. If I had to guess, I’d probably be wrong, but I’d find