I am small and handy
I attempt to assist when things get tough
I am not a healer, only a tiny escape
A little medic, round and pressured.
Most of the time I waited,
I rested in a dark bag until I was used.
But, I’ve seen more of the outside of it over the years.

Now, I am a nebulizer. A teenage girl lays across from me,
Breathing in my fog with hopeful eyes.
She then turns her head up to talk to someone in the ceiling.
I feel trembling breath and push more fog to her quivering lips.
She only sighs and wipes transparent pebbles from her ivory cheeks.
She clamps her jaw around the mouthpiece,
While the vapor rises and thickens, consuming her.

I am recommended for her, but she refuses to spend time with me.
I have become unimportant to her. So, she throws me down with skeleton fingers.
Rarely do I see her anymore. I only hear the violent coughs.
In me she has thrown away her hopes and replaced them with contempt,
It burns in her while bacteria deteriorate organs.