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''If I don't write, I'll die or go crazy.''
'''If you were born a writer, then you don't really have a choice...it's like throwing up when you're sick, you have to git it out.'''
Every time shekicks me out, she throws my stuff away: my clothesmy booksmy poetry.I'm broke likea toad.I can't afford it.No bother- she justthrows it all away.No apologies.I come back, andask, 'Where's all my stuff? 'Away, far away.