Jungle Juice

Carpet patterned with oriental swirls and dips
dancing idly with small and clumsy feet
“Gracefully dear” I hear my mother chide

Now I struggle with the same demons
clawing at my back, whispering criticisms in my ears

The clock would strike ten and she would look over disdainfully
six-foot-tall glamazon with pencils for legs and Gucci handbags,
poison dripping from her lips as she commented
“Isn’t it disgusting how girls indulge themselves at night

and I would nod, mouth full of sticky sweet chocolate crumbs
a child caught with her mother’s lipstick smeared across her face

With new shoes that blister my feet when I walk
I slink across campus,
always striving for dainty, but feeling
like I have more in common

with a small herd of pachyderms
than the lovely grazing gazelles before me