A bubble

They are all in a bubble,
but this one is hard. Plastic,
like a hamster ball. 
I carry it around. 

It is an egg, or a baby. 
It is always in danger. 

I can bend my back, not arched
or pretty. The other way,
like I am winded or not yet here.
I can hold it, white fingers,
half-breaths while I am kicked.

Sometimes a crack forms, or you fall out 
and I am sick.
I do not know if it begins with an A or an L. 

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