I have no claim to fame
Because I don’t want to be famous
People following me around and digging through my trash
Getting paid for interviews about how they tapped that ass
Buying and selling overpriced photographs of me on a bad hair day or in my nightgown
So the general public can feel like they own a piece of me while slowly stripping away my dignity and humanity
I don’t need their validation
I don’t want to be a superstar
I live a peaceful life with my paid off house and my paid off car
With my kids and cats and books and my partner in all things
With a good work ethic and a distinct lack of material things
I don’t need to be hailed or worshipped or surrounded by false followers
Who give praise and take it away telling me “it’s not yours, but hers.”
I don’t need their words or their devotions
Or their conditional friendship
I need them in my corner like I need a busted lip
They don’t know me they don’t own me they have no say in what I do
They don’t fight my battles for me and I wouldn’t let them if they tried
They’re not around whenever I need a hand and only call me once my tears have dried
They have excuses and delusions and I don’t need that on my side
They can’t abide
By the rules I set or understand the dreams I dream or show respect for my humble name
I don’t want to be famous
I have no claim to fame
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