Lupi the Rattlesnake Written by Guadalupe Vial Ulloa I stand up in a foreign room  In this icy continent so far from mine,  and I cry thinking of all the ones that I left behind in burning land.  I talk in a strange tongue  a language that makes my throat burn,  my feet hurt all day long  by the stairs I met two weeks ago.  I am no one,  not a friend or a daughter,  nor a lover or a sister.  Just a mispronounced name in the system.  New names,  new culture.  Old habits,  old torture. ADHD  my best friend since first grade,  the reason I lost a tooth  and…