Comatose

She wore her heart sewn to the hole right above
The knee of her jeans, hands thrust into the pockets like
Concealed weapons against her teenage peers who knew to
Yield at her coming presence, so as not to upset her
Pale complexion and strained smile, but her
Frail hands wrote beautifully teachers noted;
He loathed the way she muted herself, substituting
"Me" for "everyone else," placing her own dreams
Too far back so that she would sometimes forget them;
Blue with anger, he finally
Exploded at her delicacy and she
Imploded that day while his words
Broke her too-small heart and she never
Awoke from her induced coma.