The Antihero

I am the un-drank cheer
and the spilled champagne
Of the New Year’s promises
that wind up supine, dead
In unmarked ravines
Or in the backs of vans
Speeding across dark skies
Like a wayward pop bottle
shrieking to a soundless grave

Gathered hope laid upon pyres
Names that I wore on my crown
The art of insect fueled memory
Perched upon my throne of branches
Bound by tireless nervous beaks
Of caw championed chants to hollow
Halls of great tree boughs and bark
Bramble cobbled twigs and thorns
Affixed into tinder before the match

I am the spavined birthday cake
Left out for more than a week
Touch my swollen ashy black scars
Bored out from forgotten candles
Left smoldering in the sweet of dark
Feel my pierced side, get your crucifix
Of double chocolate addicted heroines
Whom so many took their own lives
Like the tragic beauty of a falling star