I was the scream of the doorslam behind you
When you were in a snit, your nose 'out of joint.'
You were so mad that I didn't matter.
I was the window you couldn't make shatter.
Even when I was hurting and lonely--
A negative stripe painted on my brow--
I still wasn't open to public observance.
(Ain't it a shame how it's working out now.)
The trouble you are--you're one in a million!
A million in one, a factory machine,
Built just like the others: dull, silly, and pale!
Don't make me laugh now, I'll explain in the mail.
Proud, loud, deserving!--of all you've got coming..
No hard-earned irreverence spoiled more than a day.
When no one can see you, you're a fabulous teacher,
And you, my fair beast, are a laughable creature.
You can't see me mocking, I am not there;
I am the girl with the bone in her hair.