A picture is worth 1,000 words.

boo.

I'm afraid of needles. I'm afraid of spiders. I'm afraid of men. I'm afraid I'll be alone my whole life. I'm afraid I'm the girl who thinks people like her but they just have pity for her. I'm afraid of the color pink. I'm afraid of C's and B's. I'm afraid I'm a disappointment. I'm afraid of never disappointing. Most of all I'm afraid of the rotting happening in my body.

I've been decaying ever so slightly. The stench was so subtle. But it was so familiar. Almost like fresh cut grass.

No one could tell. I still smiled in between the ripping noises resonating from my chest. My parents thought I was still their perfect little doll. They put me on display every where we go. People always say I'm beautiful but they don't see the cruelty behind the mascara.

The smell got stronger ever so slightly. It started out as a hint of the morgue. Next thing I knew my shampoo was smelling like old blood. People asked where I got my perfume. Confused when I giggled and walked away. Walking away from fear is the easiest way out. Every girl thinks easy is the only way to his heart. Easy is familiar. I needed someone who knew me.

Never leaving the house. Spending all my time shut up in my room. They never heard the weeping. They never saw the tears until the river from my bed ran through the living room. Only then did they open their eyes. My decaying body looked week and feeble. They stopped pretending their little girl was okay. Only then did they see death pouring from my eyes. I have never seen so much fear in my fathers eyes.

The zombie apocalypse must be coming sooner than everyone expected because my heart stopped beating 6 weeks again. My blood stopped flowing a month ago. My leg fell off 36 hours ago. My hands turned to ice 95 minuets ago. I only knew I was dying 30 seconds ago. I thought I was just sad. I thought the bitterness would go away but just like those dreaded clowns it kept coming back. And back. And back. Are you afraid of liars? Then BOO. It never left. Just like fear it was ALWAYS hanging over my head. Back then I had the strength push it back. And back. And back. Only for a little while. Some moments I felt like myself again.   I haven't been eating my Wheaties, my muscles are sore from the load, my head is about to explode due to A.P calculus, and I've just grown tired of this silly game. No I just let him stay. Striking fear into my bones like Zeus. Like a God fear reminds me why my life is in turmoil. Reminding me how damn lonely I am. Reminding me how annoying everyone in Utah county is. Reminding me it not them it's me. I'm the reason I have no friends. I'm the reason I'm lonely. I'M THE CANCER THAT KILLED ME. 

I've never written a eulogy. But here it goes. Gemma Janes was a beautiful girl. She smiled big and laughed louder. Gemma Janes cared too much about her future. Gemma Janes was a horrible friend. Gemma Janes didn't have very much fun in high school. Gemma Janes was very depressed. Gemma Janes was lost. Gemma Janes cried so many tears her parents thought she wet the bed. Gemma Janes was dying inside. So rest in peace Gemma. Your mom and dad will really miss you. 

(best friends forever) hopefully

To my best friend. 

What's do I say to someone who knows me better then a Chris Brown song? Well, you are the Kayne to my Kim. You are the smooth to my sunset. You are the sugar to my cookie. You are truly the cream of the crop. You are a Mona Lisa if I've ever seen one. 

I'm writing this because I never give you enough credit. You've done so much for me. I hope you can say the same about me. And I know it hurt you when I was away with him everyday. You never said anything because we never fight. I could see it in your eyes. And don't get me wrong I missed you. But when the days are counting down, and your his only friend left, and he kisses you like your the only thing in the that matters in the world it's really hard to tell him "maybe tomorrow." 

But I'm here for you now and I'm here to stay. Because you're the only person at this school I will miss after graduation. Because you get me. Because we are identical twins that were split at birth. Because you are me. 

So here's to our good times. Our crying our eyes out times. Here's to our car rides where we sing our hearts out. Here's to our 3 hour long stories. Here's to our times where we almost died. That number is a littleeeee too high. But that's okay. Because we had FUN. We always have fun. You + Me = the best nights of my life. I'm writing this because you, you are my favorite part of high school. And I don't say that enough. 

How to: mend a broken heart.

I'm writing this because I can't stand too see you with that girl who everyone says is beautiful. She looks mediocre to me. You've cut me so deeply so many times the love that bloomed in my heart for you is far too wilted to be salvaged. Still your face drives large nails through my brain. 

You know, it was selfish love. 

We stole, hit, burned and destroyed each other. Lies coming and going like kids on Halloween. Those lies never leapt from my lips. My lips were far too devoted to you. And maybe that's why it hurts so damn much. I was so hopelessly devoted to you. I would sit in the back seat just so I could stare at you in wonder. I would ride home on a cloud thinking how did I ever get so lucky?

Luck is for the ignorant. I was naïve. 

You're reading this so you can figure out how to get over you're ex. 

But you know we were never good for each other. You're too rebellious and I'm too heavy. Our hearts never beat together. I just forced mine to synchronize to yours. 

And you know, that's why we were a hurricane in December.

Yes I know you're still there. Keep reading I still have you in mind. 

Look at him. Seriously stare at him. Take a look from you're newly unfogged eyes. Love blinds you. You think he's a God, but in reality he has way too much acne and is about as mature as an 8th grade boy in a health class. 

Write. Write. Write. Write. Write about the good, bad, lonely, sad, horrible, breath-taking times. After reflecting you'll realize he caused your heart more trauma than he caused it too putter. 

Kiss a boy. Kiss a thousands boys. Because this is high school. High school isn't for marriage. It's for running for miles in fields with no clothes on. It's for being care free with no real responsibilities. Honey, you'll probably realize he actually kissed like a fish. Mine kissed like a trout.

Time. You need time. I'm still not over my teenage heart throb (@nickjonas) but I can listen to "when you look me in the eyes" with out crying now. I applaud myself for that. 

Distance your self. Be with your friends and your cat. Kiss a boy with beautiful eyes. Have a million girls nights. Jump on the tramp by yourself in the rain. Go to red mango everyday. Suddenly all at once, you'll realize you can like his picture with that mediocre girl because you're FINALLY free of him.

Birds eye view

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            

                                    
Look up. Look up. My head strains, it twists. Look up. The clouds are so fluffy. Look up. The sky is a large swimming pool. That one looks like a bunny. No a mule. Look up. Rain drops kiss our face. Look up. Hail beats up our special place. Look up. Stars glisten a galaxy away.

Look up. The moon does a dance with the spicy sun. He hangs by a thread attached to no one. Look up at a picture too beautiful for words. Look up. Up. Up.

                                       
Wow their cars drive so fast. Look down. Their lips do a silly dance with one another. Look down. They run so care free into the steady trees. Look down. They scale mountains with ease and no trapeze. Never looking down.
                                     

I watch and I worry when daddy comes home. Why does Sally have a mommy but Lily is so alone. I hate watching them suffer I envy their joy. Sometimes I wish I was a young boy. I can't help but love to look down, to stare. I watch the laughs, songs, the beautiful pairs. I shower them with rain so they can dance, kiss  



I sprinkle beautiful flakes to bring them sheer bliss. They don't know I look down in return to looks up. So I radiate pink in return for their love. I make them cotton candy hanging above.

                                    

I give them something to fantasize, to think. I love the adoring looks up. My dear old friends don't forget to look down. Look down at your son the clone of his father. Look down at the old cancerous mother. Look down standing there is your beautiful lover. Look down to see your heartless, amazing world. Because in a blink of an eye you'll be 85 and life is no longer on your side.
So look down. Then once again look up. Up. Up

                                                                         

Different

Since I am always so serious here is some baby animals. If this doesn't melt your heart you're a robot.

XOXO: Gemma

Head trauma

My life was concrete, my friends were concrete, floral pants were concrete. Then I had my first day at lone peak high school. 

I met a boy. He made my heart run 4 5ks. He showed me how to share lips like secrets. He even said I love you. 

He threw the first brick.

He shattered my heart into 98.5 pieces.

My friends suddenly had other interests. Laughing at mean jokes. Never noticing I was standing alone. They threw the next brick. At my teenage, fragile heart. 

Floral pants. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. I'll throw a brick at myself for that one.

But that's the funny things about bricks. 

They break your window but build your favorite house. 

Maybe the bricks are my real friends.  

That boy doesn't even like my weird kisses. He never laughs at my awkward dance moves. He's not right for me. And I needed a brick to the head to be awakened from his spell. 

Maybe that brick had my back because those "friends" don't even remember my birthday.

We can't blame the bricks for sophomore year. I don't think bricks care about fashion at all. 

Bricks only hurt us when we are using them to build the wrong house.

I found a guy who kisses me weirdly back and will dance in the rain with me all night long. 

I found friends who will bake me 30 cakes on my birthday. Or just sit with me it I need them to. We have more fun then 

the lost boys. 

I found my true love. Anthropologie. 

I may have a few concussions but I would take some head aches over a house I don't even want to live in. 

So thank you bricks. For the migraines, head pains, and a full life I wouldn't trade my right arm for.

With love, 

Gemma.