Journal
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The alarm sounds on her phone, pulling her out of a dream she’d been trying to hold onto. She reaches for it automatically, still half asleep, and the message waiting there makes her smile before she’s even fully aware of herself. She taps the screen with her thumb. The words glow bright in the dim
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I can hardly believe you’ve only been here for three years—it feels like you’ve been part of every memory I have. Always in the background, causing mischief with your brothers, your little evil and infectious laugh echoing through the hallways. My heart has been yours, little dude, since the very first beat of yours. You
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There’s something about sleep lately that feels more like survival than rest. My body sleeps, but my mind remains in a battlefield—stuck in the endless cycle of nightmares, adrenaline, and anxiety. And when I wake up, there’s no peace waiting for me—just another kind of war. Anxiety has become a shadow I carry, a weight
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The ink was heavy when first it bled, A silent mark, a prayer unsaid. But now it pulls upon my skin- Each line a name I hold within. No letters carved, no dates to trace, Just echoes of laughter time can’t erase. Your cross grew too heavy, I’ll carry it from here, Through all of
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Even as the senses fall silent—no stars, no wind, no song—love endures, unshaken. This is a poem for the quiet moments, where touch and memory speak louder than sound, and where the heart sees what the eyes no longer can.
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I never wanted to be a dad. I was terrified of repeating the pain I grew up with. But fatherhood became the most important part of who I am. This is my story of healing, of showing up for my sons—and for the kids who needed someone like me. Not to take from mothers, but…
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“Tears that remain in the body are poisonous. It is only when they touch air and skin that they become a healing balm. Tears heal— as long as we allow ourselves to cry.”
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This morning I had a dream and I woke up crying. Even as I write this, I can’t stop them from flowing. I can’t believe how much time has passed, how much I’ve changed, and how much I miss my old battles. I don’t miss the youth, but the friends—the family I made along the
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Twelve years ago today, my life changed forever. My oldest son, Milo, was born. Over the years, I’ve watched him grow, nurtured him, disciplined him, played with him, protected him, taught him, and done my best to earn the title of Dad—a title that has brought me the greatest joy and fulfillment of my life. Every
Ink & Shadows: The Words of Osiris j Reapor 