Hereditary (poetry)

I don’t want to end up like her —
I really, really don’t
I’ve worked against it all my life
and here’s the awful joke

I hear her voice in what I say
the echo all too clear
her words, her mannerisms cling
so slyly they appear

I cannot shake her influence
she’s hardwired in my brain
the fear of morphing into her
suggests I’m half insane

I fight her ghost at every turn
I never say her name
unless it conjures up more hate
and starts the war again

I damp down every memory
dowse it with contempt
denial is my fiercest tool
aimed chiefly to prevent

If blood will out as some men say
then doomed I surely am
I’d rather be some crazy wretch
than end up like me mam