Heretical Messenger

A poem for the one who fears they’re too broken to carry Heaven’s truth. | By Taylor O’Lynn

Even if I don’t inherit the Kingdom of God—
my wayward missteps and intentional mess-ups marking me unworthy
Even if the Lord meets my eyes and whispers,
“I never knew you,”

I will still open my mouth to His goodness,
declare His mercy into the wilderness,
sing His grace from the treetops,
so someone stronger in faith,
with firmer steps and steadier hands,
might stand unashamed before His throne.

Even if I am but a heretical messenger,
a heathen clutching an envelope,
I have tasted the sweetness of His fruit,
even as my own past turns bitter in my mouth.

I beg Him, “Send me,”
though my defiled heart still seeks loopholes in surrender,
still negotiates terms in the swamp.
Yet He, unshaken,
peels me from the mire,
showers me in grace,
and steadies my feet upon His path.

I wobble between cold doubt and tepid confession,
lukewarm yet desperately longing for His flame.
But my prayer is this:
that when You taste the fruit Your Spirit bears in me,
You would find an unquenchable fire—
hot enough to melt the ice of my wayward heart,
blazing beyond the stains of my sin.

Though unqualified, though stubborn,
though roots of rebellion cling beneath my skin,
You still call me to carry Your holy news.
A heathen entrusted with heaven’s truth—
I trust the Living Water to follow me,
even as I drift in murky puddles of my own making.

For anyone that comes to Christ,
He will in no wise cast out.

---

Letters from Lucifer

A poem inspired by The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis about the lies I almost believed, and the Grace that redeemed me. | by Taylor O’Lynn

Dearest young Taylor
Our bodies
Are meant for pleasure
Our skin
Meant to be touched
It wouldn't feel right if it were actually wrong
Just look how many want to —
Here is where you find your value
Take it easy
Lean on back
Let it ride
We’ll let it slide
Call it even

Dear Taylor,
Have you noticed the size of her ass?
The cinch in her waist?
Of course you have—in any case.
She’s got something you don’t.
And you’re lacking for it.
Time for affirmations
’Cause you can't ignore it:
You are beautiful
You are kind
You are talented with a potent mind
Seems so simple
Seems so sweet
Secretly, I take defeat..
You didn’t hear that
Thank the dark—
I don’t know what I’d do if she found her spark..

Dearest Taylor,
This feeling in your gut—
Unease and pain.
What if I told you
I could make it go away
Just the very same?
Bond you to your friends
It’s comradery
Don’t be lame.
Take a hit,
A puff,
Deep inhale—
Oh please,
Tell me how you feel.
You're feeling better, right?
Aren’t you glad you did it?
No one tell her—
Tomorrow morning will be different.

Oh, dearie?
What would you say if I told you
You could call in anything you wanted?
That you were one with god,
All on your own.
Just write it down and it’s yours.
The stars will align
The earth will turn
Mercury will hide
And you’ll get your return.
Whoever you want to be—
Do we have a deal?

Me me me
I I I
Self self self—
That’s right where he wants me.
See,
I didn’t know.
The darkness never comes out and says
Worship me—so
Just
Worship yourself
And get all you ever wanted.
But at what cost?
Perpetually being haunted.

My mind, a graveyard
With spirits running, screaming—
Tearing at the seams,
Tempting me to bleeding
Or leaning
Into another set of eyes,
Another pair of lips,
Or a supple pair of thighs.
Validation.
Sensation.
The hottest in the room.
Getting anyone I want,
Anyone I choose.
Cocky—but true.
My pride:
A ruse.
Insecurity at the bottom,
Emptiness ensues.
Take another hit.
Make it go away.
I am beautiful.
I am confident.
I don’t wanna see another day..

Hey Taylor!
Hit the gas.
Not the joint or the books.
Leave the journal.
Leave the friends.
Join the dirty crooks.
That’s all you’ll ever be, see?
Your body—
It’s filthy.
Your family—
They hate you.
No one
Will miss you.
The world keeps turning.
And maybe—get this—
If you defeat death,
You’re as powerful as it gets.
C’mon.
Pull the trigger.
Down the hatch.
Do you think you’re enough?
If you don’t do it,
Someone else will.
I’ve got you by the scruff.
I was kidding—
You’re a god.
Perfect as you are.
It’s just your mental illness.
Wild. Bizarre.

The story gets crazy.
I could spill it if you want.
But here’s how it ends:
I never would’ve thought—

Are you there?

Welcome home,
He cheers.
Curling in the dust,
Head in my hands—

He met me there
And I hear harps and harmonies.
The heavens above rejoice.

Hold me through this,
I cry
For a mercy
That He has already won.

Blowing away the dust and
Cracking apart the pages
Of the only love story
Ever written
As He introduces Himself—
One Word at a time.

Arms open wide—
The same as mine
When I ran back to sin
Time and time again.

But His grace is the smell of
Linens, lavender, and warm honey.

Every morning,
The mercies—
Like breakfast and coffee.
Freshly made
And most important.

From the chaos of the chasm I made,
I stand there.
Hair tattered
And knees scraped.
Tried to do it myself—
Tricked and torn,
Burnt and bruised.
Wrongly convinced.
Now
Rightfully convicted.

I clutch the hem of His garment,
Reluctant to ever let it go again.
He says:
You are forgiven.

Not thief.
Not liar.
Not cheat.
Not whore.
Not Taylor.

Daughter.

---

Called Higher

A poem about craving the high, drowning in the low, and being raised to new life

by Taylor O’Lynn

When I used to smoke weed
I think I craved the feeling
of fire in my chest to remind
me what it felt like to be alive

But no one’s ever died from pot
maybe not
but tell that to the part of me
that never lived without it.

Cozy – Smoked out
pass out on the couch
3 bowls deep of reeces cereal
watching rereuns, watching time,
watching my life like
smoke from my lips

It’s all natural
It helps me sleep
No need to count sheep
Roll up the sheet
God made it, it’s fine
I’ve done it a long time
There’s no way I’ll ever put it down

Feel uneasy?
Maybe sort of queasy?
We could fix it with a breezy.
Roll it up, lick it – sleazy
Doesn’t matter if you’re wheezy
Give it just a minute, we’ll get some mac n cheesy

Now I feel a little lazy
my brain’s a little hazy
thoughts moving slow but
the voices screaming crazy
maybe need another blazy
just to keep the demons quiet.

When I used to smoke weed,
The lies crept in through my ears
settled in my throat
let me choke
on the sound of darkness

You’re not worth it
the world’s better off if
Hop in the car real quick,
find a short road, the gas – hit
the blunt, the pedal. accelerate

but, it wasn’t like that all the time
no, not when I was high
That’s how I felt alive
it was once I was deprived that
I ran to find the light
but I was battling the lies
clouded up my eyes
I was blind,
braille bruised demise
sleepwalking to my grave
with my hands tied
Until He pried them open
Woke up to the prize

When I tell people that I don’t smoke weed anymore
They don’t try to convince me that I should
But they start to defend why they do
As if my mere proclaim to abstain
Pokes at their conviction begging for rebuttal

I’m not here to argue but
I know that it’s not true
That our God didn’t call you
to roll up the plants He made to
inhale or impale
your lungs into a sanctuary
the heart to the altar
my mind to be altered

He never told me to escape
instead of endure
He never told me to numb what
He came to Heal
He revealed
His messages concealed until
I turned it over in kind
“Be alert and of sober mind.
Your enemy the devil prowls
around like a roaring lion
looking for someone to devour.”

In this modest hour
The world that we stand
Cursed is the land
That tries to knock us down
But tell me, how
are we supposed to be
equipped to see
our destiny
when I spend all
of my days asleep?
How am I supposed to stand
when I know my knees are weak?
How am I supposed to fight
when I keep my sword sheathed?
where can I find the key
the one that’s meant to set me free?

Look –

We live in a system
that recoils from the kingdom
man made religion
tryna take away my freedom
what’ll finally happen when I can’t play the victim
look upon the wisdom

why would a man make
what a man can’t take
it’s staring at your face
too much self-control
too much grace
not enough my pace
not enough my taste
I thought we were talking about weed
Why are you jumping my case

See –

I called it peace,
but peace don’t sit on your chest in the middle of the night
I called it medicine,
but medicine don’t make you crave the sickness.

Called it freedom,
but why’d I fiend when the jar ran dry?
Called it healing,
but I was just too high to hear my own cries.

Kept my Bible shut,
kept my prayers brief,
kept my spirit dim,
so I could find quick relief.

But relief ain't the same as sanctity,
and paralysis ain't the same as peace.
I was never free—
I was just too numb to feel the leash.

Chained – don’t be fazed
All the grass I’ve grazed
I was dazed, crazed, enslaved
Until mercy called, I was saved
Like Lazarus raised
my death – erased
my sin – displaced
my mess and pain
He embraced
I once blazed, lost in haze,
now I stand, in awe – amazed