Mom, it's a complicated thing. There are feelings and dynamics.
Well, I have feelings too.
Of course you do. Like I'm feeling you're being a bit too dramatic.
Mom, sometimes you have a way of dealing. Believe me, this is hard for me to say.
Just say it, Sarah.
You have to promise not to overreact, not to make faces, not to judge, not to interrupt.
Just listen.
I have boundaries.
Why?
I never knew I had them.
They is me.
I'm a true codependent, making everybody happy first instead of me.
Boundaries.
Yes, I know this word, boundaries.
It's a line.
Someone draws in the sand that says, don't cross over here to me.
But boundaries can be gentle, little social reminders, like the way you tap a kitty cat on the nose.
And boundaries can be dark lines that grow deeper with more time.
Honey, frankly, I am not fine with how this story goes.
You're doing it again.
You're not listening to me.
Well, you're not listening to me.
Okay, that's triggering.
What is this triggering?
It's when I'm trying to talk about my feelings and you make it about you and I get re-traumatized.
How are you traumatized?
By your complete invalidation of our boundaries.
Thank you.
Of my boundaries.
Oh, please.
Fine.
I'm never going to say anything ever again.
I will never have an opinion around any of you ever again.
Happy? Satisfied?
Mom, please.
All I'm saying is that our parent just died and we would like you to think before you speak and act respectfully.
That's a lot to ask.
It's my boundary.
It's my boundary.
It's my boundary.



Inhale every inch, little bitch, still attached to you.
My beating heart, there you are.
Driving off in your car, did I say far too much?
Much too late, probably.
Please don't go very far.
I'll always worry.
It's what I do best.
Please don't take that away from me.
You're still my baby.
My door's always open.
You know where I leave the key.
I can feel all your feelings.
Even dream all your bad dreams
I might get up from a 40 year nightmare
And guess what I'm feeling?
Your boundary is my trigger
Your boundary is my trigger
When I was your age
I'd do every chore
Anything that she asked me to
To quiet her rage
I was the pillow she screamed every night into
So I promised I'd never
Do that * to my daughter
I spackled and sanded my anger
And sadness to make room for you
Now I'm starting to panic
I should've breastfed
I'm hearing we missed out on magical bonding juice
I should've breastfed
I'm hearing neglect is far worse for us than abuse
And we all blame the mother
Let's pile on to the mother
Who gives like a charity
Gives like a giving tree
Left like a stump in her forest of misery
Your boundary is my trigger
Your boundary is my trigger
If I could
I'd shove you back inside me
From my belly you would provide me
With a map that you could guide me
And you'd pull my cord
Like a gentle soft reminder
As you stretch out my vagina
My boundary stretching wider
I would clench my thighs
And keep you there forever
I don't know boundaries
Never knew I should have them
So how could I
Know yours?
Your boundary is my trigger
Your boundary is my trigger
Your boundary is my trigger
Your boundary is my trigger