House of Childhood by Nataša Benedičič

House of Childhood Nataša Benedičič I would rest in a secret gardenWatering my unsaid thoughtsFor they had no other placeSince they were “too much”Waiting for life to unfoldLike a flower before meWith unplanned moments Yearning to arrive where I belong Little knowing that some people Search for their purpose all their livesConstantly feeling they bloom in the wrong placesLoving things that never love them backGrowing pains were a certainty.That I was becoming an adultYet a part of me wanted to hang onTo the zest for life, a two-year-old holds Childhood is like building a house.You will live in it for the rest of your lifeUnaware of how it will feel inside its wallsFor construction felt so out of your control I didn't want to be judged by my outsideBut I rarely pulled up the blinds, always careful How much you could see from my windowsYet yearning for guests to come insideI have learnt that not everything builtWas put in the best place for meSo I've crashed my windowsAnd broken down my wallsI have learnt that nobody can teach youHow your rooms and furniture should look likeYour inner kingdom is yours to mendThe only lesson being that it is possible I have learnt the only constant guest here is meAnd this should be a safe and secure placeTo hold in peace all I've been and all that I'm becoming Only after, others will feel welcomed too More from Nataša Benedičič ↓@natasek_poetry_corner on InstagramChildhood Reveries is her SubstackHer book, Whispers of the Inner Child, is out now