
Covered in hydroxyapatite
Colored in dead white
I feel hollow from inside
Look dead but I’m alive
When I break, I bleed
The blood raises a bridge
Weathered by osteoclasts
Plastered by osteoplasts
Tethered by the callus
Soon I become callous
As stresses fall, I realign
I’m your tibia, I’m your spine
Now I’ve grown thin and old
But my bearer, on to you I still hold…
nice