The place reeks like alcohol.

I was the life of the party,

But now I'm left with the aftermath.

Who am I sober?

The stale taste of vodka

Is ripping through my heart,

I don't know if I lost myself to last night.

I'm sick of stepping over broken glasses,

and scrubbing beer stains out of carpet.

My room is a silent sanctuary,

Somewhere I can sleep.

Where did the fun go?

Who am I sober?