Sin Fronteras Spring 2017 Sin Fronteras Spring 2017 | Página 8

Into Oblivion
María Castrejón
It flows through my veins,
and caresses my skin.
It tenses my muscles,
and teases my lips.
It takes me by the arm,
and warms me from within.
I follow along,
as it leads me into
oblivion;
onto a dark path of
welcoming uncertainty.
Down my throat
and into my stomach,
following its common path
into my heart.
It numbs the pain,
and it cuddles anxiety.
It distracts me from
madness.
I like it here.
I like the colors,
And the way they mix together;
in unison,
forming a deep shade of bliss.
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I’m on such a high;
pleasure empowers my body.
And I’m trapped
in a blur of the inevitable.
Making me delirious
to the point of sickness.
A tingle is now
crawling up my legs,
Tickling my soul
And making it laugh.
I’m mesmerized by it’s ability to
posses.
To thrill,
and feed the devouring hunger
that’s trying to take over.
I’m never satisfied.
Once it’s gone,
I can’t wait to climb back
onto the rollercoaster
of moonshine.
I’m under the influence
of greatness
and I’ve never felt better.
Rooftop Thinking
Lucía Donayre

It was four a.m. on a summer night when I looked out my window.
The stars were lighting up my eyes and the moon created shadows with
the help of the series of skyscrapers that stood tall over the city. No wind
was moving the leaves of the pine trees on the other side of the road, not
a drop of rain was likely to fall from the sky. I rested my face upon my hand
and I could do nothing else but ponder the life I was given.

Millions of thoughts rushed through my mind, mainly about the
crises and tragedies that had been happening in the world. And, I could
not stop myself from asking, “Why am I so fortunate?” All those people
dying and starving to death and I was here, having everything I needed or
wanted within reach of my fingertips.

I began thinking: I live in a house. A house my dad pays for with the
money he earns working for a multinational corporation. I have clothes,
artifacts, gadgets. I have obtained these with the money given to me by my
parents. I don’t really need anything. The only things I really need are new
experiences. More emotions. More than the loneliness that the sleepless nights
of August give me.

From my window I imagined everybody else in the world doing
something different. Maybe a woman is being harshly abused in the back
of an alley, maybe a student is not sleeping over the stress of grades and
standardized tests. Possibly a man is trapped in a fight over money, possibly a
person with low income is winning the biggest lottery prize.

Why is it important for me to think about people who I have never met?
I only deeply understand myself. Incorrect, I barely know myself. That is
because I am not living someone else’s life. I am living my own. My arm got
tired of supporting my head so I decided to get out of my room. I walked
towards the laundry room where I knew there was a place to escape. I
opened the door and I quickly walked towards the other side of the room
where I found the ladder. My hands felt a little shaky while holding onto
the steps of the cold ladder. I got to the last steps. Many people do not have
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