I have stitched life into me like a rare organ
The sky leans on me, me, the one upright among all horizontals.
If I was going to fall, I would hang on to my small comforts, at least, for as long as I possibly could.
I feel terribly vulnerable and 'not-myself' when I'm not writing.
When you are insane, you are busy being insane-all the time ... when I was crazy, that was all I was.
I find that in a novel I can get more of life, perhaps not such intense life, but certainly more of life than in poetry.