Amelia_v

If I could weave the memories of you in a giant blanket 

The night sky would appear 

Or maybe the streets of that one city in Central America 

The unspoken words caught in a language barrier

Sometimes it's hard to write poetry

It's almost like the words get stuck

in the folds of my mind before they reach the paper

Or maybe I just can't describe

memory

As I’m writing this I’m lying in bed in Nuevo Horizonte. A small jungle town in the north of Guatemala where around 100 people live and work together. Recently (a day ago) we wrapped up our time in San Juan La Laguna with our homestay family’s.

Honestly, it’s hard to believe that as I’m writing this, lounging here in a big bus (treat from Iteam), I’m completing four weeks in Guatemala. I had no idea I would be able to do this trip. My brain was full of fears.