It began with an image, this is how it should begin, even though this is how it ended this is what I remember
I am not happy with the final section, for me its a performance in 3 parts and the last section doesn’t sit quite right, doesn’t fit.
The final image is the only salvageable thing…. the rest is badly spoken stories, struggling with humour to mask the trauma of this
Brown hair, green eyes and a tendency to have to go a little bit further than everyone else
What does that even mean? How can you ask me to speak these words now? Don’t you know who I am? Don’t you realise who you become and how difficult it is for me to speak the stories you wear like a prize, like your identity, this is who you were, this isn’t who I am. Except I am, I am a woman, am I still a girl?