GUTTER MAG: DECEMBER 2017, ISSUE #2

TELL ME WHAT MATTERS

by Daniella Franceschetti “These little things. They’re clichés I fell for. These things don’t turn into anything meaningful-”

“Who says they don’t?” She stopped, and I felt her gaze as she turned her attention away from her rant and onto me.

“Maybe that’s love. The things you think you fell for. Everything you just said. Maybe, that’s love.” She said nothing. I’ve always been terrible at consoling. I had a bad feeling that I had to shake or I’d never be any help, that what I wanted to say wouldn’t be understood. It was fear that, in desperation, my comfort would not feel genuine. That it would be cold, full of rhetoric the world’s heard time and time again in the wake of each and every heartbreak in mankind’s long, trudging history. I pressed on.

“Do you want to know- what I think love is?” I could’ve puked. Finally, some kind of reaction. I swear, it felt like years were passing before she spoke up.

“…I’d love to hear it actually.” Honest curiosity. It was at this point that I realized I hadn’t even looked at her yet; I was so consumed by what I had to say. Her eyes were shot. It was getting late and I felt I had to rush, like she’d leave if I didn’t. As I repositioned myself to face her, I took one of her hands and held it, gently, at my lap.

“I think- I think love is when I was dead to the world.” She furrowed her brows, doubting. God, I felt out of my mind.

“I think it’s when I was tired, but he was excited. Fascinated. I think it was when he was talking to me for like thirty minutes straight at three a.m. about Japanese cockroaches and I thought it was the most interesting thing I had ever heard- In my entire life.” I looked down, I sounded awful. Another one of those little things.

“ When I forgot how much I was craving sleep, and all I wanted to hear about were those damn Japanese cockroaches-” She removed her hand, my eyes shot up.

“Go on.”

“Well, maybe you’re not being dumb. If those things don’t matter then I don’t know what fucking does.” I held on tighter.

“I-”

“Call her. Come back to those “little things””

WARMTH IS SOMETHING YOU RETURN TO

by Daniella Franceschetti I woke up today with tears on my cheeks and you looked at me with worried eyes and I cried because it was you who I’d imagined being so cruel and I cried again in your arms relieved this time knowing that would never be true

SUNDAY

by Trisha Murphy The oh-so familiar feelings of a hand placed on your lower back, Mother’s wordless way of begging you to stand up straight. Wanting to remind you of the importance of posture or how tall you look with your shoulders back but not daring to interrupt the Priest— he’s halfway through the homily and she doesn’t understand that you’re hiding.

Trying to fold your 5’10 frame into a shape he won’t recognize, trying to avoid the “haven’t seen you in a while” when you told Mom you were going every week.

And your knees feel weak standing on the marble ground, you wore the wrong shoes and didn’t remember Mass feeling so long. Usual spent it in the parking lot, in a parked car biting at nail beds in silence because the pop music on the radio makes you feel guilty; you can sit in the car but you can’t enjoy it. Last week you tried to venture inside but never made it to a seat, instead stood in the back until it was safe to retreat. Maybe it’s okay to not want to be here, the being here is its own victory.

karen’s martini: horoscope edition ARIES: “By your inflect, I can LIBRA: “We don’t do things. tell you think what you’re We talk about doing things we never do them.” saying is funny, but no.” but TAURUS: “I’d help you, but SCORPIO: “I it’s that’s not my problem.” that it’s

GEMINI: “You’re good, I’m looking

just

don’t not not as

know. Now forbidden, exciting.”

looking SAGITTARIUS: “I hope there’s better.” someone cute on the elevator.

I’d love a deep, committed rela-

CANCER: “Oh my God, how can you tionship for thirty floors or so.” drink straight orange juice first thing in the morning?” CAPRICORN: “I’m not good or real. I’m evil and imaginary.”

LEO: “You know how I know?

Because I really think so.” AQUARIUS: “If people don’t like you... how are you supposed to VIRGO: “Honey, it’s a waste know if you like yourself?”

of Or

time. reading

Like exercise.

PISCES: to your kids.” feeling

“Can’t

talk, something.”

ODE TO THE LOVE I COULD NOT HAVE

by Rachel Chevat

thank you for filling me with poetry you will never read i used to watch you like TV, bright colors gleaming eyes lost on the couch in a lucid daydream it was always a funeral— i forgot to bring the roses the days we spent together would not read clearly in a eulogy but they were heaven (by heaven i mean out of reach in the most stunning way) i hope you find a lover who makes your soul quiver i hope you shrink at the thought of her and expand when she sinks into your chest like a sponge sopping up molasses i hope she is sweet

by De Castello