Reading Musgrave.
by Victoria Scott

'This is not me' - she scratched out

        thick black letters

             and with a graceful flourish

                wrote her name.

I am not printed letter. I am

        living entity with blood

         flowing from nicked arms and

           slash wounds across breast.

I am worn, lively eyes making

        boldly shy contact across rooms.

I am curtain of hair

        that shelters from

              scan of strangers.

I move out from the blocked page

               and return.