"a circular obsession I never wanted but
inheritance is accidental
still staring at me with wine-stained lips from across the kitchen table"
There is something special in this example of slam poetry.
First, to me, the slam poem itself: voice, words and emotions conveyed with the impetus of a slap in the face, given by someone who has itchy hands.
Second: this young woman who tells the story of her family's women. She sees the space changing, recalls memories and asks herself about her "call", what to figure out from expectations in terms of beauty or the right to have her own opinions, what defines her now and what she needs to be recognized for.
It's a challenge, a pushing the limit of the space we were taught we belong. Woman's self- consciousness, breaking the chains of recurrence.