She wished she could be as bitter as the brittle love you showed her.
The surroundings of sirens you called on her for being emotionally available but too available to not know the valid voices of her own being.
The forest that is her mind, swinging from swing to swing, full of sin as sinister as your eyes.
BUT! She, woke from the wander and found that sometimes the rarest treasure of all, is the one right in front of your eyes . So she looked in the mirror and realized that anger is not just a block of sadness but a passage to grow as grains do to find light. .
And so, she is sorry for drunk texting you but her emotions confuse her when sober.