My lips are stained red from wine
My head is buzzing
A sweet kind of headache
The dizziness of being drunk

I lay still,
tapping my finger nails on the glass
Waiting, I'm always waiting
The darkened room, aglow
Small illumination from a muted television
Flashing colors, changed my surroundings

I am alive, aware
Balloons hang from the ceiling,
but there's no party in sight
Not here, not ever.