You go have your tantrum, I’ll go build a mansion inside me
A poem from learning boundaries with someone in an angry tantrum
You blame me, rude-name me, you recriminate me,
and so I ask you to stop.
I can’t control you, but I’ll choose what I do:
walk away and let it drop—
not playing your game, not defending from blame;
you can just think what you’ll think,
while I protect my self-respect
and stay inwardly in sync.
I’ll hold fast in my mind to what’s here inside;
I won’t let you scare it away.
You go have your tantrum, I’ll go build a mansion
inside me, with cast-iron gates.
