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Imfaltable (adj./noun):

 

Imfaltable (adj./noun):

The imagined, unstoppable protector-self a person creates to survive, shield others, and rise up beyond their human limits — until they finally see themselves clearly and return to being simply, powerfully human.

The Inflatable

Imfaltable (adj./noun):


I see it now.

I see it clearly.

I see my love.

I see my overwhelmed.

I see my bear.

I see my rise up.

I see my protection.

I see me become ten.

I see me wrap my arms around whoever, whatever it is

that has taken my time, my brain, my thoughts, my action,

my involvement from place at the wrong time,

right place at the right time—

my EVERYONE

I see it.

I see me rise up.

I see me protect.

I see me get angry.

I see me get taken down.

I see it clearly now.


All my life I did this—

my brothers, my mother,

my lover, then my family,

when every thing became to much.

I rise up.

I gave it away.

Did they ask me?

No.

It was just something I was good at.

To protect.

My shadow grows.

I’m huge.

I’m fast.

I’m all encompassing.

I’m everything.

I do my best to make it right

for whatever action, reaction, ailment, situation,

feeling trapped in a moment of time I can.


My childhood, my adulthood,

now my midlife—

and now I see it.

I don’t rise up.

I had to stop,

but not by choice.

The pause made me.

Made me realise I’m not invincible.

I’m not a superhero.

I’m not a man.

I cannot protect, cannot lay in front,

wrap around, be fixed, do, find an answer.

I’m only human.

At fifty, I realise I’m only human.

And I don’t flood myself any more with those feelings.

I use my words.

I’m calm.

I think about it.

I turn it around.

I come back.


I can’t use my force any more,

or my willingness, or my strength, or my power—

but I can use words.

Words don’t hurt me.

Words don’t hurt the people around me.

Words make a difference.

Statements make a difference.

Sayings make a difference.

Mantras make a difference.

Quotes to live by make a difference.

“I love you” makes a difference.

I’m here — but I’m here as me,

not as the imaginary protector I used to be.



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