If I don't say this thought right, I might destroy it

Standing on the roof as the sun set, we tiptoed between the shards of broken glass. 

I pulled the bone out from the box.  It was the same size as a finger bone, maybe the piece between the knuckle and the tip.  Super white.  Like stone, hard, yet different, organic and temporary.  This had belonged to some human.  Somebody like me.

When fear rises up in your belly, you need to wrestle it to the ground like a demon cobra. You need to jump upon it, crash it down, hold it, hold it tight to yourself and know it and love it and let it go and don’t ever let it fucking hold you back again. Cause you’re fucking God, seriously. You’re fucking God.

"Imagination is the voice of daring. If there is anything Godlike about God it is that. He dared to imagine everything." -- Henry Miller