Where You Belong

A long, flexible feeding tube lays at the entrance of the left nostril. Moistened with lube, it slowly starts the journey. 

    It reached the nasal cavity who says, “what are you doing here? You don’t belong.”

    The tube says, “I’m sorry, but I need to keep going.” The nasal cavity is angry and becomes red and swollen. The foreign present that doesn't leave causes the nose to cry and wetness runs down from the opening. But the tube keeps going.

    It reaches the esophagus who says, ‘what are you doing here? You don’t belong.”

    The tube says, “I’m sorry but I need to keep going.” The esophagus is irritated and becomes scratchy and sore. The influx of air causes a struggle of pulling and pushing so the intruder will leave. But the tube keeps going.

    It reaches the stomach who says, what are you doing here? You don’t bel-” The stomach is cut off by two voices from the brain and heart who say, “we know why you are here. And you are exactly where you belong.”