Hayley Green – Headline Show Final Draft

7 Jul

Changing Rooms

{Hayley centre stage surrounded by 5/6 Mouthy’s dressed in all black}


I am twelve

cemented in a changing room,

girls tiled on both sides –

I don’t know where to look


{Film running in background}

Girls in changing rooms:

I’m taking first spot behind the showers!

Don’t look don’t look!



I clam up –

Make-up dolls

and curiosity

making me want to leer

but I divert my eyes to the floor

and try to avoid their sneers


Girls in changing room:

Pop away your tongue –

I’m not a lollipop

and this is not a sweet shop


{Narrator: recorded to run alongside film of taking make up off}


She spent ten minutes studying her timetable this morning

PE, the two letters alphabetti spaghettied

around the blue and white stripes of her school planner.

Her heart, overcooked soup in her chest

that hasn’t heard from puberty –

unlike these other girls around her

she has yet to develop breasts



So I take a peak –

More out of jealousy


Girls in changing room:


what you looking at lesbo?


she’s looking at me,

she’s dirty




Tuck the peak back inside my head

gawk at the floor again –

If I look up

they’re just gunna call me a lesbian



She’s an odd sock, stale,

permeated by the words

she imagines they say

which wouldn’t be so unfounded –

she’s pounded urges so they don’t surge

through the edges of her skin,


moulded thoughts

to keep within parameters

of a world she doesn’t understand,

catting her back against tiles




I camouflage myself into the background,

towel tiles around my body,

plaster myself into a hiding space

where no hiding spaces are found



She displaces the feelings

tumble drying in her stomach

and irons them onto others.

She’s stained

like the tiles on the walls around her

mosaicing her design

to look more like theirs as they change.


Girls in changing room:

They should be put with the boys

so they can’t look at us,

they’re more like them anyway



She’s not been sewn together quite right

A knitted jumper with one sleeve

longer than the other

still stitching new threads

onto the right places



The door that separates the girls from the boys is open

for me to gumshoe towards

and through

because their bodies match mine

more than the girls’ do


Girls in changing room:

It’s not right that we have to hide

so they can’t see us,

they’re always looking


Girl: Looking, looking

They must have caught me looking



To get caught she must have been looking

so maybe it’s time

she stops tucking these feelings under her desk

unfold herself to reveal she’s just not like them –

It’s fine to have these thoughts in your head



But I am twelve

cemented in a changing room

girls tiled on both sides

and I don’t know where to look.


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