They are what protect me. I am the only one who can nurture them. Two-hundred six strong bones some that are skinny and others that are strong. Two-hundred six all placed together to form my body. Two-hundred six opportunities to break from impact. Only I can feel their pain, but once they’re healed I understand the value of them.

They are hidden by my skin. They withstand my active lifestyle day and night. They’ve broke but they’ve rebuilt and they understand the person using their strength is someone accomplishing big dreams and without tremendous femur and sturdy radius no games would be won.

If only one detaches from the rest, the rest go down too, deep feel pain would fill the body like scraped cornea, rest throughout them all is needed even if it’s only just the Distal Phalynx. Rest, rest, rest, the doctor says to heal. They must all relax.

When I am too sick and too tired to keep being active, when I am feeling too weak to continue playing, it is then I drink my milk. When there are balls to kick and hit, I play. Two-hundred six who continue to grow with age. Two-hundred six who will someday shrink brittle. Two-hundred six who make me, me.